GIFT  OF 
H.B.Wilson 


PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Being  Selections  from  the  ^Apology,  Euthydemus, 
Protagoras, 'Symposium,  Ph^drus,  Republic, 

AND  Ph/EDO  OF  PLATO   , 

£D/T£D   W/77/  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES 
BY 

WILLIAM    LOWE    BRYAN,  Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY,   INDIANA  UNIVERSITY 

AND 

CHARLOTTE    LOWE    BRYAN,  A.M. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1897 


£5  3^8 

08 


?&? 


EDUCATION  DEFT. 


Copyright,  1897,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


** 


In  memory 

OF 

HENRY    BATES 
A  lover  of  men 


677760 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface, ix 

General  Introduction, xiii 

Introduction  to  Apology, 3 

Apology, 5 

Introduction  to  Euthydemus, 33 

euthydemus, 35 

Introduction  to  Protagoras, 63 

Protagoras, 67 

Introduction  to  the  Symposium,        .        .       .       .105 

The  Symposium, 107 

Introduction  to  Ph^edrus, 137 

Ph/edrus, 141 

Introduction  to  the  Republic, 181 

The  Republic  : 

Book  I., 187 

Book  II., 199 

Book  III., 227 

Book  IV., 251 

Book  V.,                                     .      • 279 

Book  VI., 291 

Book  VII., 319  \s 

Book  VIII., 342 

Book  IX., 373 

Book  X., .         .         .394 

Suggestions  on  the  Study  of  the  Ph^edo,       .        .413 
Ph^edo,         . .417 


PREFACE 

Plato's  fame  as  a  philosopher  prevents  many 
from  reading  him  far  enough  to  discover  that  he 
is  also  a  teacher  of  the  folk.  He  is  one  of  very- 
few  who  can  speak  at  times  for  the  masters  alone, 
and  at  other  times  so  that  the  "  common  people  hear 
him  gladly."  The  historic  Socrates  drew  about  him 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  from  the  philoso- 
pher to  the  rake,  each  by  the  proper  magic ;  and  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men  may  yet  feel  something 
of  his  magic  through  the  dialogues  of  Plato.  To 
help  publish  the  open  secret  that  Plato  speaks  with 
simplicity  and  charm  and  power  to  all  of  us,  is  the-^t^ .  ^/ 
pui£P£e_oi  this_boojc.  $ 

The  .ftpologv  is  placed  first  as  the  best  possiblefc^* 
introdu ^tionjo  the  life  and  spirit  of  Socrates.     The  d-&~j J  J 
^Euthydemus  shows   Socrates   in  contrast  wjth_the  ^ 

baser  Sophists,  the-*ffrotagoras  in  contrast  with  the 
sjLi^ejuor_Sop_hists.  The*Symposium  and^Phsedrus 
shQ_w_philosophically  and  dramatically  Plato's  con- 
cerjjjojuiLlQ_ve_as  thebasis  of  science  and  nf  jfeacj?- 
ing.  This  is  Plato's  most  important  contribution  to 
Education.  The*Republic  gives  Plato's  entire  scheme 
oXj^ducaiion,  as  determined  by_the__Jndividual  and 


***+, 


X  PREFACE 

bv  his  social  relations.  This  is  an  inexhaustible  mine 
of  wisdom  for  the  teacher.  The^Phaedp  is  intro- 
duced partly  for  its  own  sake  and  partly  because  all 
Plato's  thought  about  t^educatkni^iLmanjyas  de- 
terniined  bxhis^conceptiojL-Qf  the  absolute  jiatLire 
and  destiny _of  man. 
^  The  introductions  to  the  several  dialogues  are  in- 

^**^vi2^  tended  only  to  give  a  few  suggestive  clews  which 
may  prove  useful  to  elementary  readers.  The  in- 
tr.oductjp_.il  to  the_PhaedQ  is  an  outline  for  the  study 
of  that  dialogue. 

The  notes, constitute  a  dictionary  of  the  biograph- 
ical, geographical,  and  mythological  terms  or  refer- 
ences in  the  text.  Scholars  will  observe  that  the 
notes  have  been  written  with  great  reserve.  While 
we  have  sought  the  highest  accuracy  in  every  line, 
we  have  sought  no  less  to  exclude  all  antiquarian 
lore  that  would  not  directly  assist  the  elementary 
reader  to  understand  the  text. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  book  the  endeavor 
throughout  has  been  toJeXPJ^tp_s_rje_aJ_Li^ 
The  notes  and  introductions  are  intended  only  to 
elucidate  and  not  to  criticise.  To  prevent  possible 
misunderstanding,  however,  it  may  be  well  to  state 
a  few  of  the  more  important  points  in  which  we  do 
^^uli^.  not  accept  Plato's  teaching,  (i.)  It  is  scarcely  neces- 
^%c^  sary  t0  say  that  the  modern  Christian  world  has  out- 
grown many  of  Plato's  ideas  of  morality.  In  criti- 
cising these,  however,  it  should  be  remembered  that 
no  one  is  wholly  free  from  the  influence  of  his  age, 
and  that  in  many  things  Plato  was  better  than  his 
age.  (2.)  We  prefer  actual  democracy  even  to 
Plato's  ideal  aristocracy.    (3.)  We  believe  that  con- 


PREFACE  Xi 

tact  with  the  earth  through  the  senses  and  hands  is 
not,  as  Plato  seems  to  have  believed,  a  degradation 
to  the  soul,  but  is  a  spiritual  necessity.  (4.)  We  be- 
lieve that  Plato's  conception  of  God  and  of  man's 
relation  to  God,  far  as  it  is  beyond  that  which  is 
often  found  among  Christians,  falls  far  short  of  that 
shown  to  us  by  our  Lord. 

The  translation  used  is  that  of  Jowett  (the  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons'  Edition).  In  a  few  cases  where 
Jowett  uses  a  foreign  phrase  or  an  expression  pre- 
senting special  difficulty  to  those  unread  in  the 
classics,  slight  alterations  have  been  made. 

In  the  preparation  of  the  notes  we  have  used  the 
Greek  text  of  Plato;  Liddell  and  Scott's  Greek  Dic- 
tionary ;  *  Harper's  Classical  Dictionary ;  Johnson's 
Cyclopaedia;  Smith's  Classical  Dictionary;  Bulfinch's, 
Guerber's,  and  Gayley's  Manuals  of  Mythology  ; 
Jowett's  Introductions  and  Analyses ;  The  Index  to 
Jowett's  Plato,  third  edition ;  Zeller's  Plato  and  the 
Older  Academy  ;  Zeller's  Socrates ;  Grote's  History 
of  Greece ;  Grote's  Plato ;  Bosanquet's  Companion 
to  Plato's  Republic ;  Socrates,  Talks  with  Socrates 
about  Life,  Talks  with  Athenian  Youth,  A  Day  in 
Athens  with  Socrates,  published  by  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's Sons  ;  and  Webster's  Dictionary,  on  the  pro- 
nunciation of  proper  names. 

*  Referred  to  in  notes  as  L.  &  S. 


GENERAL    INTRODUCTION 


THE  ATHENS   OF   PLATO. 

/Plato  was  born  at  Athens  about  427  B.C.     His&^v*^ 
native  city  was  then  at  the  height  of  its  prosperity. p  ' 

At  the  beginning  of  that  century  the  Greek  states, ^^^'jfa 
often  at  war  with  each  other,  and  always  jealous  of    ^t^^o 
each  other,  had  been  forced  to  unite  in  a  fight  for 
life  against  the  innumerable  hordes  of  the  Persian 
Empire.     Athens  was   foremost   in   this   fight,  and 
when  the   Persians  were  finally   driven  away,  she     ^^ 
succeeded  in  placing  herself  at  the  head  of  a  power- 
fioLleague  of  Greek  cities.     Accordingly,  although 
thepityhad  been  captured  and  burned  by  the  Per- 
sians\j3iepr1isently  became,  under  the  direction  of 
the  statesman  Pericles,  far  stronger  politically  and 
commercially  than  ever  before.    A  variety  of  causes 
made  this  period  also  a  golden  age  for  many  of  the    c-^tt 
arts.     The  city  had  to  be  rebuilt.     This  was  done 
under  direction  of    the    sculptor    Phidias,  with    a 
splendor  and  artistic  perfection  perhaps  never  else- 
where equalled.     The  democratic  Athenian  govern-    As^^ 
ment,  according  to  which  questions  of  State  were 
decided   in  a  general   assembly  of   all   the  people, 
gave  occasion  for  the  development  of  oratory  of 


XIV  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

the  highest  order.  Finally,  in  this  century,  the 
drama  which  had  gradually  developed  in  connection 
with  the  worship  of  Dionysus,  came  to  classic  per- 
fection in  the  comedies  of  Aristophanes  and  the 
tragedies  of  ^Eschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides. 

Athens  had  yet  another  glory  of  which  some  of 
her  citizens  were  not  proud.  She  had  become  the 
principal  seat  of  philosophy.  In  order  to  appreciate 
the  state  of  philosophy  at  this  time,  and  the  feeling 
of  the  people  toward  it,  we  must  give  a  brief  ac- 
count of  the  preceding  history  of  philosophy. 

GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  BEFORE  PLATO. 

^v-h^L       The  deliberate   search   after   scientific   or   philo- 
^^o^^ophicJxu^h^r^se  first,  so  far  as  we  know,  about  two 
r*:?hundred  years  before  the  time,  of  Plato,  among  the 
Greeks  who   lived    qn_  the  western   coast   of  Asia 
Minor.     There  were  a  dozen  Greek  cities  on  that 
coast  and  the  adjacent  islands  of  the  JBge'an  archi- 
pelago, as  far  back  as  authentic  history  runs.    These 
^,)  cities  were  fortunately  placed.     They  had  at  their 

'  back  a  prosperous  country  and  before  them  the  sea. 

They  developed  a  great  trade  all  around  the  JEgean 
and  Mediterranean  Seas, —  with  Tyre  and  Sidon, 
with  Egypt,  and  with  the  widely  scattered  Greek 
colonies.  They  became  very  rich.  But  that  was 
not  all.  By  contact  with  new  peoples,  they  ac- 
quired new  ideas  and  the  habit  of  looking  out  for 
new  ideas.  They  were  without  doubt  especially 
indebted  to  Egypt.  Indirectly  through  Phoenicia, 
they  got  from  Egypt  the  alphabet  which  is  substan- 
tially the  one  we  use  to-day.     Besides  this  invalu- 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XV 

able  gift,  they  got  from  the  Egyptians  a  first  lesson 
in  science.  The  study  of  the  heavenly  bodies  had, 
been  from  ancient  times  part  of  the  religious  duty 
of  the  Egyptian  priests,  who  therefore  had  consider- 
able knowledge  of  astronojny.  On  account  of  the 
yearly  overflow  of  the  Nile,  it  had  been  necessary 
to  have  some  method  of  measuring  land  in  order  to 
re-establish  boundary  lines.  The  Egyptians  had 
accordingly  some  knowledge  of  geometry.  In  the 
course  of  time  Greek  travelers  acquired  this  learn- 
ing. We  find,  for  example,  that  Thales,  a  Greek  of 
Miletus,  predicted  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  which  oc- 
curred in  585  B.C. 

But,  as   I   have  said,   these   Greeks   acquired  byQ 
their  travel,  not  only  new  ideas,  but  also  an  eagery*,//^ 
curiosity  for  more  new  ideas.     They  were  not  at  alr*-^-^/^ 
satisfied   to  accept  the   learning  of    Egypt   and    of 
Tyre  and   Sidon,  as  they  found  it.     That  learning 
helped  to  free  them  somewhat   from    faith  in   the 
myths  by  which  their  ancestors  had  explained  all 
things  in  heaven  and  earth,  but  gave  them  no  suffi- 
cient substitute  for  the  old  faith.     It  is,  at  any  rate, 
certain  that  about  650  B.C.,  a  few  sages  in  the  Ionic 
cities  were  beginning   to   grope  toward   a   natural 
explanation  of   things.      In   the   movements  of  the 
heavenly.,  bodies,  for  example,  where  the  supersti- 
tious saw  only  the  caprice   of  the  gods,  they    had 
learned    to    see    an    order    such  that  future  events /^^h*; 
could    be    predicted.      This  led  some  of  the  wiser^^^o 
men  to   believe   that   there   is   an   order__rujing   in 
n^iuj^jev^rvjvhere^    They  began  to  raise  questions 
accordingly,  not  only  about  the  true  length  of  the 
year,  and   the   means   of  measuring  time,  but  also 


XVI  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

cr>  very  general  questions,  such  as:  What  is  the  world 

u2^¥  made  of?  What  force  has  caused  it  to  be  gener- 
ated ?  What  law  has  ruled  in  this  generation  ?  We 
have  authentic  accounts  of  more  than  a  dozen  dis- 
tinguished men,  living  between  650  B.C.  and  the 
time  of  Plato's  birth  (427  B.C.),  whose  lives  were 
spent  in  trying  to  answer  questions  of  this  sort. 
If  you  read  the  answers  they  were  able  to  make 

-^uv^v^to  these  questions,  ignorantly  or  carelessly  enough, 

'you  may  think  them  little  better  tljan  childish.  (jfe^6v 
said  that  the  world  is  made  of  wate?,  which  thickens 
and  hardens  to  make  solid  bodies,  and  thins  to  make 
air  and  fire.  f^QOtlier^said  that  the  world  is  Jiiade 
orai?';  anomerthat  it  is  made  oPfire  ;  anjofnerrofit  it 
is  made  of  four  elements— i%xth2_^Ji^_fii^i_^aLwatejr. 
iW?iner*sai d  that  %\\  things  are  in_eternal  JD oti on 
and  that  when  we  think  that  anything  is  at  rest,  our 
senses  deceive  us.  Another  said  that  tiLLthings  are 
eternally  at  jjest  and  that  when  we  think  we  see 
motion,  our  senses  deceive  us.  0$e^#f9niat  all 
/things  in  nature  move  by  numerical  harmony,  like 
the  notes  of  the  musical  scale,  /mojmersaid  that 
love  and  hate  are  the  two  forces  tjjat  bring:  all 
things  together  or  keep  them  apart.  WTareuJanone 
of  them  expressed  in  some  form  the  belief  that  the 
'evolution  of  the  world  is  dire cted  by  one  supreme 
intelligence.  Many  of  them  expressed  views  on  par- 
ticular scientific  questions  which  are  very  similar  to 
those  now  accepted.    So, -for  example,  ;AJiajrinland£r, 

t^Jx*-  who  lived    about   600   B.C.,  held  sopre  views  about 

(/^  the  s_tru ctu r^_  of_th e  solar  system/which  were  more 

nearly  correct  than  the  theories  generally  accepted 

down  to  the  time  of  Copernicus  (a.d.  1543).     I  shall 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XV11 

not,  however,  discuss  the  value  of  this  early  philoso- 
phizing   further  than  to  say  that  the  more  deeplyfrtf^W  / 
one  studies  it,  the  more  surely  one  sees_that  these  Q 

men  werejiot  foolsLand  that,  in  spite  of  their  crudi. 
ties,  simi^jDfJ^hejn^^  What  I 

wish  now  to  do  is  to  discuss   their  influence  upon 
the  public  mind  of  Greece.  <^1K<pu 

As  might  be  expected,  they  produced  one  kind^^*, 
of  effect  upon   the  few  who  paid  special  attention  / 

to  them  and  an  altogether  different  effect  upon  the 
general  public.  Even  with  the  former,  the  effect 
was  by  no  means  always  flattering  to  the  philoso- 
phers. Just  in  the  period  between  the  Persian  wars 
and  the  birth  of  Plato,  a  great  many  of  the  Greeks 
who  devoted  themselves  to  learning  were  coming 
to  the  conclusion  that  philosophy  was  a  failure. 
"The  philosophers,"  they  said  in  substance,  "tell  us 
that  we  cannot  trust  our  senses  for  the  truth  of  any- 
thing, and  that  we  must  learn  the  truth  of  them. 
We  go  to  them  and  find  that  they  contradict  one 
another  at  every  point.  The  truth  is,"  some  went 
on  to  say,  "  there  is  no  truth  which  is  truth  always 
and  everywhere.  The  world  is  different  at  every 
point  and  is  always  changing.  Men  are  all  different 
from  each  other  and  every  one  is  constantly  chang- 
ing. How  can  a  changing  man  find  anything  in  al 
changing  world  which  every  other  man  will  alwaysl 
find  just  so?  It  is  impossible.  That  is  true  iorWlajfp 
each  man  which  he  finds  true.  Let  us  cease  the*^/ 
vain  search  for  a  universal  and  absolute  truth.  Let 
us  be  content  to  learn  how  to  be  practically  effect- 
ive. Let  us  learn  how  to  fight,  how  to  write,  how 
to  speak,  how  to  plead  in  the  courts  and  before  the 


>tf 


XVlll  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

assembly  of  the  people.  Let  us  acquire  skill  to  get 
on  in  the  world.  There  is  no  other  wisdom  than 
this." 

The  class  of  men  who  took  substantially  this 
1  position  called  themselves  Sophists,  that  is,  wise 
^'raen.  Some  of  them  were  very  talented,  very 
lVu^W  thoroughly  schooled  in  the  learning  of  that  time, 
*^0^tf>  and  very  skillful  in  the  practical  arts  which  they 
professed  to  teach.  They  gave  speciaLajtlcntion  to 
language — that  is,  to  grammar,  rhetoric,  andorgjojT- 
They  are,  given  credit  for_thejdevelopment  of  Greek 
prose  style,  as  it  appears,  for  example,  in  the  ora- 
tions of  Demosthenes,  a  century  later,  and  indirect- 
ly for  the  development  of  the  same  art  among  the 
Romans.  Some  of  the  Sophists  were,  of  course,  in- 
ferior. I  need  only  refer  to  the  dialogue  Euthy- 
demus,  in  this  volume,  to  show  that  some  of  them 
were  despicably  so.  Such  men  cared  for  nothing 
but  their  own  advantage,  and  were,  without  doubt, 
gross  corrupters  of  the  youth. 

Now,  the  general  public  did  not  draw  any  fine 
distinctions  between  the  superior  Sophists,  such  as 
S&L£  Protagoras,  and  the  baser  sort,  such  as  Euthydemus 
f"  and  Dionysodqrus.A  Moreover/ the7  public  did  not 
distinguish  between  the  Sophists  and  the  philoso- 
phers. Although  the  philosophers  had  sought  ear- 
nestly for  the  truth,  and  believed  that  they  had  found 
some  truth,  while  the  Sophists  believed  all  such 
search  vain,  the  Athenian  public,  intelligent  as  they 
were  in  many  things,  lumped  all  men  of  learning 
together,  and  called  them  Sophists.  As  a  result 
of  this  failure  to  distinguish  between  men  whose 
views  were  directly  opposed,  the  public  attributed 


) 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XIX 

to  all  of  them  substantially  all  the  faults  they  found 
or  suspected  in  any  of  them.  Some  of  the  philoso- 
phers had  outgrown  the  popular  religion  ;  the  people 
were  accordingly  quick  to  believe  that  any  learned 
man  was  an  atheist.  Some  of  the  Sophists  rejected 
the  conventional  notions  of  morals;  every  scholar 
was,  therefore,  readily  suspected  of  being  a  cor- 
rupter of  the  youth,  and  if  any  youth  who  consorted 
with  scholars  turned  out  badly,  his  ruin  was  charged 
up  to  the  new  learning. 

The  public  opinion,  with  its  muddle-headed  oppo- 
sition to  the  whole  movement  of  science  and  phi- 
losophy, was  expressed  perfectly  in  a  comedy  by 
the  great  Athenian,  Aristophanes.  The  story  of 
the  play,  called  "  The  Clouds,"  runs  as  follows: 
A  certain  man  finds  himself  in  debt,  without  ability 
to  pay.  He  is  told  that  there  is  a  school  of  the 
Sophists  where  he  can  be  taught  how  to  argu 
himself  out  of  all  his  debts.  The  school  is  de- 
scribed, with  Socrates  as  chief  teacher.  Socrates 
is  represented  as  engaged  in  profound  investiga- 
tions on  various  nonsensical  questions  about  things 
in  heaven  and  beneath  the  earth.  He  is  calculat- 
ing, for  example,  the  distance  from  one  place  to 
another  in  terms  of  the  foot  of  a  flea.  The  man 
is  taught  how  to  argue  away  his  debt ;  but  his 
son  gets  from  the  same  teachers  a  lesson  which 
enables  him  to  prove  his  right  to  thrash  his  father. 
It  is  easy  to  see  how  the  average  Athenian,  who 
looked  and  laughed  at  thfs  play,  would  lump  all 
the  philosophers  together,  and  attribute  to  each  of 
them,  but  especially  to  Socrates,  a  nonsense  and  a 
knavery  which  would  bring  the  country  to  ruin. 


XX  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

So  far  nothing  has  been  said  about  the  real  belief 

and  purposes  of  Socrates  or  of  Plato.     What  it  is 

,  ,  necessary  to  see  is  the  actual  situation  which  they 

^A<V   faced- 

^tfH&C&i  i.  There  were  the  old  philosophers,  reaching  back 
nearly  two  hundred  years  to  Thales  of  Meletus,  who 
had  been  floundering  and  struggling  toward  the 
truth  about  nature,  without  coming  to  an  agree- 
ment. 

2.  There  were  the  Sophists,  some  of  them  scholars 
and  gentlemen,  some  of  them  ignorant  tricksters, 
who  rejected  all  the  foregoing  philosophy,  and,  more 
or  less,  also  the  popular  ideas  of  religion,  law,  and 
morals. 

3.  There  were  the  Athenian  people,  proud  of 
their  military  glory,  their  growing  wealth,  and  their 
ftautiful  city,  but  ignorant  of  the  new  learning  and 
hostile  to  it. 

^^Z^^iy^^Li^^-  PLATO'S   MASTER.  ^^ i^^^^i^  (4%uAf<* 

The  foregoing  pages  touch  the  principal  features 
— political,  economic,  artistic,  philosophical,  and  so- 
cial, of  the  situation  in  Athens  at  the.time  of  Plato's 
birth.  One  element  in  the  situation  has  been  barely 
mentioned,  Plato's  master,  Socrates. 

Socrates  had  more  influence  upon  Plato  and  upon 
subsequent  philosophy  than  had  any  of  the  men  or 
.conditions  heretofore  mentioned.  I  shall  not,  how- 
ever, in  this  place  give  an  account  of  his  life  and 
teachings.  I  refrain  from  doing  this  solely  because 
those  who  read  this  book  may  become  acquainted 
with  Socrates  far  better,  as  well  as  far  more  delight- 
fully, through  the  dialogues  of  Plato  that  are  given 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  XXI 

here,  than  from  any  biography  that  could  be  written  ^ 
about,  him.     Indeed,  one  main  object  of  this  book  iSg_^  ^h*. 
just  to  make  those  who  read  it  personally  acquainted 
with  Socrates.     There    is,  however,  one  matter  of 
fact,  in  this  connection,  which  should  be  thoroughly 
understood. 

Socrates  wrote  nothing.  We  know  of  his  life 
and  teachingslchierly  through  the  writings  of  tw_o 
gf  _his  disciples,  Xenophon  _and  Plato.  Xenophon 
probably  told  the  truth  about  his  master  as  well  as 
he  could.  But  J^mopjipji^was  like  some  of  those,^/  . 
who  heard  the  teachings  crfouT15avT©OT=-^l^  "^^ 

~~4sJ__bujL^nj3t_Jj^^  *^-w* 


Plato   understood    Socrates    better    than   any   one  '^•*'cfi 
else   did,   and   he    could    have    given    us,    without 
doubt,   a  trustworthy   picture  of  his  master.     The 
difficulty  in  getting  at  the  real  Socrates  through  the 
writings  of  Plato  is  this.    All  Plato's  writings  are  in 
dialogue.     In  almost  all  the  dialogues,  Plato's  own^, 
orjinio-QS-ar£_put  into  .the  mouth  of  Socrates.     Plato's^Y^£^ 
own  views,  however,  became  in  the  course  of  time         ]?■&£ 
considerably  different  from  those  of  his  master.    It  is, 
consequently,  impossible  to  be  sure  just  how  far  the 
speeches  of  Socrates,  in  Plato's  dialogues,  represent 
the  actual  opinions  of  Socrates,  and  how  far  they 
represent    opinions   acquired    by    Plato    after    his 
master's  death.     It  is,  indeed,  true  that  Plato's  phi- 
losophy was  developed  out  of  that  of  Socrates,  and 
we  may  be  sure  that,  as  a  rule,  in  ascribing  his  own 
opinions  to  Socrates,  Plato  did  not  greatly  violate 
the  spirit  of  the  master's  teaching.     It  should,  how- 
ever, be  understood  that  the  Socrates  who  speaks  in 
Plato's  writings  i§  more  orless  a{dramatic_j^reiUJ0Q 


I&S&L 


XX11  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

PLATO'S   LIFE. 

Of  Plato's  life  and  work  only  the  bare  outlines 
will  be  given  here.  He  was  born  about  427  B.C.,  of  a 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  family.     He  had  the  best 

^^.  education  which  the  world  then  afforded,  becom- 
ing in  time  master  of  all  branches  of  learning  then 
known.  He  was  particularly  proficient  in  mathe- 
matics. When  he  was  twenty  years  old,  he  became 
vC^£-  &<v  the  disciple  of  Socrates,  and  lived  with  the  master 
until  the  death  of  the  latter  in  399./  Later,  he  trav- 

V^rx^f  eled  in  Egypt,  (^rene,  Italy,  and  Sicily,  pursuing 
philosophic  studies.  In  Sicily  he  was  sold  as  a 
slave.     After  being  ransomed,  he  QJ^enecj^a  school 

§*  of  mathematics  and  philosophy  in  Athens,  where, 
"***-  among  others,  he  had  Aristotle  for  a  pupil.  Twice, 
by  invitation  of  LTion,  ruler  of  Sicily,  he  attempted 
to  apply  his  political  theories  to  an  actual  govern- 
ment, but  both  attempts  were  failures.  His  death 
occurred  at  Athens,  347  B.C. fcUa^4^. 

No  philosophy  can  be  adequately  represented  by 
an  outline,  even  if  the  outline  were  made  by  the 
philosopher  himself,  because  the  definite  doctrines 
which  can  be  stated  in  an  outline  are  always  to  be 
understood  in  connection  with  the  thousand  subtle 
meanings  that  lie  between  his  lines.  There  is,  how- 
ever, special  reason  why  Plato  cannot  be  represent- 
ed by  an  outline  of  his  philosophy.  He  was,  in  fact, 
far  more  than  a  mere_QhiIasQPJier.  He  was  a  dra- 
UL^>^^  matic  artist  He  was  more  than  that.  He  was  a 
oyer  oilmen.  And  in  the  measure  that  he  was 
these  three — philosopher,  dramatist,  and  lover — he 
was  aj^eacher. 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

PLATO    THE    PHILOSOPHER. 

In  this  place  will  be  given  first  an  account  of 
£hvto^s^n^ral_docjtnrie,  and  then  a  view  of  his  atti- 

tude  toward  the  ^%^i^M^^^^^JU^u. . 

The  Doctrine  of  Ideas  >  Plato  s  doctrine  of  ideas 
varied  at  different  periods  of  his  life.  Its  established 
features  may  be  stated  as  follows: 

Every  one  knows  what  a  common  noun  is,  as  tree, 
horse,  stone,  etc.  A  moment's  thought  will  show 
that  common  nouns  may  be  arranged  in  a  system. 
Children  recognize  some  such  system  in  their  game*' 
of  twenty  questions,  when  they  ask  if  the  thing  you 
have  thought  of  is  material  or  immaterial ;  if  mate- 
rial, whether  it  is  animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral ;  if 
an  animal,  whether  aland  animal  or  a  water  animal; 
and  so  on  until  they  have  run  down  the  particular 
thing  or  class  of  things  thought  of.  In  any  such 
system  the  special  classes  run  together  into  gen- 
eral classes,  until  at  last  all  run  together  into  one 
class,  say  the  class  being,  which  includes  all  beings, 
divine  and  human,  living  and  dead. 

Now  Plato  believed  (i)  that  corresponding  to 
every  common  noun  there  is  a  real,  eternal,  and  :pe.r- 
fect  being,  in  the  likeness~oTwnich  and  by  the  power 
of  which  every  particular  being  coming  under  that 
class  is  made  ;  (2)  that,  corresponding  to  the  system 
of  common  nouns,  there  is  a  system  of  such  real, 
eternal,  and  perfect  beings  ;  and  (3)  that,  correspond- 
ing to  the  highest  common  noun,  there  is  a  Highest 
Being,  which  is  the  prime  source  of  all  lower  beings 
and  so  of  all  things  whatever.  The  real,  eternal,  and 
perfect  beings  corresponding  to  our  common  nouns 


XXIV  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

Plato  called  ideas.  He  did  not,  therefore,  use  the 
word  idea  in  the  sense  that  we  are  most  accustomed 
to     The  highest  idea  is  God.  «*WA*^*k>&~< 

Now  while  he  believed  that  these  ideas  are  pure, 
holy,  and  beautiful,  he  believed  that  the  particular 
objects  which  the  world  that  we  see  is  made  of — the 
actual  trees,  horses,  etc. — are  only  imperfect  copies 
of  their  ideas,  and  are,  therefore,   not  at  all  pure, 
holy,  and    beautiful,    but    just   the   contrary.     The 
h^^^  <Q    goj)dness^of_the  ideas  and  the  badness  of  particular 
^  M££  ,t[TiQo^is  the  £e^tplth£ug]r^^^kto's_  philosopJiy. 
Man  has  or  may  have  knowledge  of  both.     With  his 
^'^^eyes  and  ears  and  other  senses  he  comes  into  con- 
#^^^  tact  witt/the  world_jollhillgs-     With  his  soul  he  may 
know  directly  theVorld  ofjdeal  being,  which  cul- 
minates in  God.     Contact  with  the  world  through 
the   senses,   gives  us   not  true__or  valuable   knowl- 
edge,  but   only   the   appearance   of    true    wisdom. 
Contact  with  the  eternal  ideal  beings,  by  means  of 
the  eye  of  the  soul,  gives  us  the  only  true  and  divine 
wisdom. 

To  account  for  the  fact  that  the  soul  may  know 
^Xg^^tjnje  ideal  beings.?Plato  held  that  the  soul  has  exjs_te_cUtA^ 
always  ;  that  before  being  born  into  this  earthly  life 
the  sjduI  lived  in  the  world  of  ideal  beings  ;  that  the 
s^lilJXiajn£_^jrLejno^  that  we 

may^recallthe  knowjedgejwe,  had  in  a  former  life, 
if  we  will  withdraw   our  senses  from  the  things  of ' 
the  world  and  give  ourselves  to  diligent  reflection. 
That  is,  by  diligent  reflection,  we  are  able  to_recalt\ 
mojx~£iigLjnj>n^_^^  \ 

<^HXesj3omdjn^^  and! 

at  last  we  are  able  to  rise  in  this  way  to  a  contem- 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  XXV 

plation  of  the  Highest  Idea,  that  is,  God.  On  this 
point  read  the  parable  given  in  Book  VII.  of  the 
Republic. 

As  we  are  misled  by  the  senses,  when   we  seek 
knowledge  through  them,  so  we  are  misled  by  thenr^^fc^^ 
in  regard  to  the  conduct  of  individual  and  social^-*^;  U 
life.     The  senses  are  the  source  of  all  our  sinning. 
We  should  die  to  the  body  and  the  things  of  the 
body  and  turn  our  souls  altogether  toward  the  ideal,/ 
being.     By  contemplation  of  and   obedience  to  th^^T^-t^ 
ideal  being  we  shall  be  made  more  and  more  good^_a^w^ 
and  beautiful  in  this  life,  and  after  death  we  shall 
reenter  the  ideal  world   where  we  shall  be  in  the 
company  of  perfect  souls.     As  our  individual  life,  so 
our  political  life  should  be  wholly  directed  by  the 
divine   truth.     This   is   possible   only   through   the 
guidance  of  men  who  have  purified  themselves  from 
the  world,  and  by  long  consecration  have  come  to 
see  the  divine  truth.     That  is,  the  State  should  be 
governed  by  the  wisest  and  best,  and  all  others  will 
find  their  true  interest  in  obeying  them. 

Plato  s  attitude  totvard  the  life  of  his  time :  Prob- 
ably very  few  of  those  who  read  this  book  will  ac- 
cept Plato's  doctrine  of  ideas  in  the  form  in  which 
he   presented  it.     However   that   may   be,   no   one 
should  fail  to  see  that   what  Plato  stood  for  most 
centrally,  along  with  the  prophets  and   apostles  of 
every  age,  was  the  reality  and  power  of  the  truth.v^^y^ 
He  believed  in  the  truth ;  that  the  truth  is  one  and^J^/"^ 
eternal ;  that  the  truth   rules  all  things  both  greata^K^^ 
and  small  in  the  world  and  in  the  lives  of  men  ;  that^— i^> 
men  need  the  truth   and   no  other  thing  to  compass 
them  about  in  infancy  with  influences  that  make  for 


*-*-WWWm- WW*"-*, 


XXVI  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

righteousness,  and  to  rise  in  their  souls  as  clear 
knowledge  and  as  holy  purpose,  with  their  growth 
into  manhood.  This  central  faith  in  the  reality  and 
power  of  truth  determined  Plato's  attitude  toward 
every  important  question  that_met  him, — toward  the 
old  philosophy,  toward  the  theories  and  practices 
of  the  Sophists,  toward  the  business,  art,  religion, 
and  politics  of  his  nation,  and  toward  the  con- 
duct of  his  own  life.  Let  us  look  at  each  of  these 
points. 
/3c^^fcJJie^  :    Plato    did  not  join   the 

Sophists  and  the  general  public  in  scorn  of  the  old 
philosophers.  He_believed ' that  their  long  search 
for  the  truth  had  not  been  altogether  in  vain.  He 
]}ejie_y_£d^;hat  some  of  them  were  worth  the  deepest 
study  he  could  give  them.  He  made  extensive  and 
expensive  journeys  to  meet  living  disciples  of  the 
various  schools  of  philosophy.  There  is  a  tradition 
that  he  paid  a  sum  equal  to  about  $1,600  for  one  small 
book  on  the  teachings  of  Pythagoras.  It  is  at  any 
rate  certain  that  he  was  a  profound  student  of  Py- 
thagoras, of  Parmenides,  of  Heracleitus,  and  doubt- 
less of  other  old  masters.  He  was  not  afraid  that  such 
study  of  his  predecessors  would  affect  his  own  orig- 
inality. No  passage  can  be  recalled  which  shows 
that  he  was  jealous  of  any  of  his  predecessors  or 
^anxious  to  prove  his  own  superiority.  In  the  The- 
astetus  there  is  a  reference  to  one  of  the  old  masters 
which  seems  to  be  not  ironical,  but  characteristic 
of  Plato's  genuine  reverence  for  the  greater  philoso- 
phers. "  I  have  a  kind  of  reverence,"  he  says,  "  for 
the  great  leader  himself,  Parmenides,  venerable  and 
awful  as  in  Homeric  language  he  may  be  called  : 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XXV11 

him  I  should  be  ashamed  to  approach  in  a  spirit  un- 
worthy of  him." 
ju^ni  The  Sophists^  Plato  was  unceasingly  hostile  to  the 
doctrines  and  practices  of  the  Sophists.     He  clearly 
saw  that  the  Sophists  were  not  all  upon  the  sameX^- 
level.     The  best  and  the  worst  of  them  one  may  be- 
come acquainted  with  in  two  of  the  dialogues  given 
in  this  volume — Ruth  yd  emus  and  Protagoras.     Eu-^5f^t«D-J 
thydemus  and  his  brother,  Dionysodorus,  are  exhib-/.  £~.#K. 
ited  as  substantially  a  pair  of  confidence  men.     They  ' 

are  ignorant,  shallow,  unscrupulous  tricksters.  Their 
game  is  the  half-grown  youth  who  has  much  money 
and  little  judgment.  When  they  have  dazzled  and 
corrupted  and  robbed  the  boy,  their  work  is  done. 
In  the  dialogue,  Plato  scorches  these  men  with  his 
irony,  and  holds  them  up  to  public  shame  as  merci- 
lessly as  Aristophanes  did  in  the  comedy  their  kind 
to  which  I  have  referred. 

In  the  Protagoras  we  are  introduced  to  Sophists^  y^y 
of  a  very  different  kind.     Protagoras,  Hippias,  and  /' 

Prodicus  were  men  who  had  earned  distinction  by 
attainments  which  are  honored  in  almost  all  civilized 
countries.  They  were  masters  of  the  learning  and 
of  the  arts  of  the  time.  Judged  by  any  ordinary 
standard,  the  Sophists  of  this  class  would  receive  an 
honorable  if  not  an  eminent  place  in  the  history  of 
culture.  It  is  held  by  some  scholars  that  Plato  was 
not  just  to  them.  It  is  possible  that  he  was  not, 
although,  indeed,  he  shows  very  clearly  that  he  was 
by  no  means  ignorant  of  their  many  gifts  and  accom- 
plishments. The  reason  for  his  unfailing  antago- 
nism to  every  kind  of  Sophist  is  not  ignorance  of 
their  attainments,  as  judged  by  ordinary  standards. 


XXV111  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

He  utterly  refuses  to  judge  them  by  ordinary 
**-&£.  a^j  standards.  Everything;  is  eternally  judged  by  one 
^^U&*-  HiSdi^  the  absolute  truth.  Judged  by  this  stand- 
f^^u^fp  ard,  the  most  accomplished  Sophist  stands  self- 
condemned.  He  does  not  believe  in  the  absolute 
truth.  He  does  not  seek  to  know  it.  He  does  not 
seek  to  obey  it.  He  has  no  faith  in  anything  except 
the  power  of  artifice.  His  learning,  since  it  never 
leads  toward  the  absolute  truth,  is  "  the  art  of  giving, 
by  quibbling  criticism,  an  appearance  of  knowl- 
edge." His  rhetoric  is  not  a  true  but  a  spurious 
art,  which  does  not  seek  to  supply  true  food  for  the 
soul,  but  only  to  concoct  highly  spiced  dishes  which 
shall  pamper  and  corrupt  the  people. 
.Ayvc^iL/ *f  Athens?1.  What  did  Plato  think  of  his  own  city, — 
its  art,  its  religion,  its  politics?  If  you  glance  again 
at  the  brief  account  which  has  been  given  of  the 
many  glories  of  Athens  at  that  time,  or,  better,  if 
you  become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  history 
of  Athens,  you  may  well  think  that  any  Athenian 
had  a  right  to  be  proud  of  his  birthplace, — its  com- 
mercial and  political  prosperity,  its  temples,  its  clas- 
sic drama,  its  impressive  religious  ceremonials.  In- 
deed, if  you  get  to  know  and  love  the  "  glory  that 
was  Greece,"  you  may  be  inclined  to  anger  against 
any  one  who  would  dare  to  criticise  it.  Be  angry 
if  you  will,  but  Plato,  who  grew  up  in  the  midst  of 
that  glory  wj^itsj^moxs^le^s_cTit^c.  He  made  his 
criticisms  in  the  exquisitely  graceful  Athenian 
fashion,  but  in  substance  they  are  as  stern  as  if 
he  had  been  Jeremiah  or  John  Knox.  The  reason 
^^^jv^for  this  severe  judgment^  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Sophists,  is  that  he   knows   only  one   standard   of 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XXIX 

judgment,  the  absolute  truth.  The  paintings,  the' 
songs,  the  stories,  the  dramas,  are  full  of  what  is 
beautiful  to  the  senses,  but  to  the  soul  they  are  for, 
the  most  part  ugly  and  evil.  When  they  tell  of  the : 
gods  and  heroes  they  are  full  of  lies.  When  they) 
pretend  to  portray  the  virtues  temperance  andt 
courage,  they  misrepresent  and  mislead.  This  in-\ 
fluence  is  for  the  most  part  corrupting,  and  they 
should  all  be  banished  from  education  and  from  the/ 
State,  except  such  as  really  lead  the  soul  toward  the/ 
truth. 

In  a  like  spirit  Plato  criticised  the  business  and  po-<^£*^^^ 
litical  life  of  his  time.  The  people  are  wasting  their4^*^^^ 
life  for  that  which  is  not  bread.     Some  want  military  t 

glory,  some  want  money,  some  want  pleasure.  All 
these  wants  lead  more  or  less  rapidly  to  ruin  in  this 
world  and  the  next.  The  people  need  one  thing — 
to  be  under  the  power  of  the  truth.  They  need  wise 
and  righteous  men,  who  have,  by  years  of  search, 
come  to  know  the  truth,  to  direct  the  state  and  the 
activities  of  its  citizens.  Only  in  such  a  state  can 
there  be  true  health  and  happiness  for  the  people. 


PLATO   AS   DRAMATIST. 

I  do  not  call  Plato  a  dramatist  merely  because  h 
wrote  in  dialogue.  A  dialogue  is  not  always  dra 
matic.  The  speakers  may  be  only  masks,  through 
which  one  hears  always  the  author's  voice.  Plato 
himself  often  writes  in  this  style.  In  such  cases  we 
presently  see  through  the  masks  and  discover  that 
the  dialogue  is  only  an  essay. 

There   is  proof   of    Plato's   dramatic  gift  in  the 


XXX  GENERAL   INTRDOUCTION 

H4B^9ol  graP^ic  pictures  of  Greek  life  which  make  the  set- 
'^'Ctd&fp  ting  of  his  dialogues.     But  this  would  have  slight  im- 
portance, if  those  pictures  were  found  to  be  only  a 
sort  of  artistic  coating  for  his  philosophical  pill. 
/  The  justification  for  calling  Plato  £jLjln^ati^  be- 

Z7*"  comes  more  substantial  when  one  finds  a  dialogue 

^*°K*¥}  whose  slor}^JllusJtrates_the  theme_discussed.  Take, 
for  example,  The  Symposium.  The  theme  is  love. 
One  after  another  of  the  banqueters  praises  love  in 
a  new  way.  At  length  Socrates  unfolds  his  own 
view.  Suddenly  in  bursts  a  crowd  of  revelers, 
drowning  all  discussion  and  scattering  ail  serious 
thought.  When  the  leader  of  the  revel  learns  what 
the  banqueters  have  been  doing,  he  also  will  make  a 
speech.  But  he  will  choose  his  own  subject.  He 
will  make  a  speech  about  Socrates.  The  interrup- 
tion and  the  speech  are  very  interesting,  but  what 
of  that?  It  would  be  interesting  \i  Bildad,  the  Shu- 
hite,  should  comfort  Job  with  a  fiddle.  Why  should 
Plato,  any  more  than  the  author  of  Job,  interrupt 
sublime  discourse  by  a  farce  ?  A  little  closer  inspec- 
tion, however,  shows  that  the  interruption  is  not 
real,  that  the  subject  is  not  changed,  that  the  de- 
bauched revelers  and  the  story  which  Alcibiades 
tells  of  his  relations  with  Socrates,  together  illus- 
trate the  whole  range  of  beastly,  human,  and  divine 
love  which  it  is  the  purpose  of  the  dialogue  to 
portray.  In  the  Phaedo,  Phasdrus,  and  elsewhere, 
there  are  other  fine  examples  of  Plato's  skill  in  mak- 
ing the  story  of  one  spirit  with  the  argument. 
V  But  the  full  justification  for  calling  Plato  a  dram- 
atisi  docs  not  rest  upon  such  occasional  examples 
of  his  art.     If  this  were  all,  we  should  only  say  that 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

Plato  is  a  philosopher  who  sometimes  shows  that 
he  might  have  been  a  dramatist.  Plato  is  a  drama- 
tist because  of  this  ;  It  is  never  enough  for  him  to 
knozv  the  absolute  solution  of  any  problem.  He  wishes 
also  to  i  know,  with  the  sympathetic  'imagination,  just 
how  men  of  every  sort  look  at  that  problem.  In 
most  of  his  dialogues,  not  all,  Plato  somewhere 
seeks  to  work  his  way  toward  the  absolute  truth 
by  rigid  systematic  thinking.  Thej^_Ji£Js_rjurely 
pjiilo^opjisi.  There  the  dialogue  is  only  form, 
and  the  speakers  courteously  make  way  for  the 
argument.  But  in  no  dialogue  is  this  the  only  thing 
done.  All  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  are  intro- 
duced— a  slave  boy,  a  confidence  man,  an  ignorant 
braggart,  a  rake,  a  youth  eager  for  learning,  a  pro- 
fessor of  things-in-general,  a  physician,  a  poet,  a 
business  man,  a  philosopher — a  great  range  of  peo- 
ple, historical  and  fictitious,  representing  every 
phase  of  the  life  of  his  time.  These  people  are  not 
masks.  Some  of  them  feel  even  to  us  as  real  as 
Shakespeare's  Mercutio,  or  Polonius,  or  Dogberry. 
Often  they  are  given  their  way  with  the  argument. 
Often  within  the  same  dialogue  first  one  and  then 
another  type  of  man  takes  the  lead  and  fixes  the  plane 
of  the  conversation.  Now  they  tussle  at  the  prob- 
lem like  puppy  dogs  (Republic,  VII.,  539),  Socrates 
tussling  gayly  with  the  rest.  Now  some  one  smoth- 
ers discerning  inquiry  with  a  fine  oration,  and  per- 
haps Socrates  matches  this  with  another  of  the  same 
sort.  Now  an  eager  youth  plunges  courageously 
into  a  discussion  beyond  his  depth,  and  Socrates 
follows  him  with  joyful  applause,  often  without  a 
hint  that  there  are  depths  in  the  problem  which  the 


xxxii  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

youth  has  not  sounded.  In  many  cases  the  dialogue 
ends  with  the  question  at  issue  unsettled.  In  such 
cases  one  sees  that  Plato's  purpose  in  that  dialogue 
is  noJ^toj>ejLfor^ 

rn£njnjy^ig|>vle_jo^  The  former  were  the 

*"^*£' achievement  of  a  philosopher;  the  latter  is  the 
^achievement  of  a  dramatist  whose  drama  is  the  whole 
spiritual  journey  of  mankind.  If  I  may  borrow  a 
figure  from  Pilgrim's  Progress,  I  shall  say  that  Plato, 
the  Philosopher,  had  sight  of  the  Celestial  City ;  but 
that  Plato,  the  Dramatist,  kept  also  in  view  the  long 
way  back  to  the  City  of  Destruction.  He  knew  all  the 
way  stations  upon  that  road,  how  many  there  are, 
how  far  apart,  and  how  in  one  or  another  of  them — 
in  Vanity  Fair,  in  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  in  the 
Slough  of  Despond,  in  the  Arbor  of  the  Enchanted 
Ground — men  dance  or  curse  or  pray  or  lie  in  peril- 
ous sleep  far  from  the  Celestial  City. 

PLATO   THE   LOVERJ 

This  title  is  not  a  new  invention.  In  several  ways 
Plato  distinctly  claimed  it  for  himself.  For  one 
thing,  he  called  himself  philo-sophos,  lover  of  wisdom. 
This  title  meant  two  things.  It  meant  for  one  thing 
that  he  would  not  be  called  sophos,  wise.  This  was 
not  mock  humility.  In  one  sense  Plato  was  not 
humble.  He  was  a  proud  man.  He  believed  that 
he  had  found  the  way  toward  truth  while  most  men 
wander  blind  and  helpless  in  other  ways.  He  be- 
lieved that  he  had  found  some  essential  truth  which 
the  world  must  accept  or  perish  for  lack  of.  When 
he  had  these  things  in  mind,  he  spoke  with  the  dog- 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XXxiii 

matic  authority  of  a  prophet.  But  just  because  he 
saw  so  far  into  the  truth  of  things,  he  §a w  more 
clearly  than  most  men  ever  do,  ^h^tjh^wh^lej^uih 
jsjiot  jp  be  compassed_in  this  life,  that  none  is  Wise 
but  God.  And  just  because  he  felt  so  deeply  the 
need  of  actual  truth,  to  live  by,  now,  he  turned 
from  all  pretense  of  wisdom  with  instinctive  hatred. 
There  will  be  nothing  new  in  this  to  any  one  who 
has  learned  Plato  from  his  own  writings.  In  most 
dialogues,  the  Platonic  Socrates  is  more  genuinely 
docile  than  his  antagonists  or  disciples.  On  the  day 
of  his  death,  he  warned  those  about  him  against 
letting  their  love  of  him  add  undue  weight  to  his 
arguments,  and  bade  them  withstand  him  might  and 
main,  where  he  seemed  astray.1 

But  the  title  philo-sophos  meant  more  with  Plato 
than  a  recognition  that  he  was  not  like  God, — wise. 
Above  all  things  this  title  meant  that  he  was  quite 
literally  a  lover  of  wisdom,  that  his  desire  to  be 
wise  was  a  passion.  In  order  to  prepare  one's  self  to 
appreciate  Plato's  passion  for  the  Absolute  Good, 
one  might  read  some  of  those  passages  in  the  Bible 
which  express  the  longing  of  the  soul  for  God.  The 
Psalmist  says,  "  As  the  hart  panteth  for  the  water 
brooks,  so  longeth  my  soul  for  Thee."  "  My  soul 
longeth,  yea,  even  fainteth  for  the  courts  of  the 
Lord ;  my  heart  and  my  flesh  crieth  out  for  the  living 
God."     Moses  declares  that  the   first  and  greatest 

1  A  fashionable  amusement  of  this  century  is  to  bait  philosophers.  It  may 
be  that  philosophers  as  a  class  deserve  and  need  this  chastisement.  As  a 
rule,  however,  those  who,  professing  to  speak  for  common  sense  or  for  ex- 
act science,  deride  philosophical  inquiry  into  the  problems  of  life,  will  give 
you  the  solution  to  any  such  problem  while  standing  on  one  leg.  Such 
men  make  queer  figures  in  presence  of  Socrates. 


XXXIV        GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 

commandment  is  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul, -and 
with  all  thy  strength,"  and  to  this  Christ  adds, 
"  and  with  all  thy  mind."  The  emotional  tone  of 
these  and  such  passages  is  characteristically  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  Plato,  but  his  language  is  not 
less  strong.  One  can  imagine  his  quoting  and 
approving  all  these  passages.1  In  the  Phasdrus  and 
Symposium,  Plato  represents  love  as  a  jprincipje 
wjn^cji^^mj^esj^r^^ 

§ion_jrp_ Jojhe  j^u Jjestjonging  for  absolute  truth .  I n 
all  its  forms  it  is  intense,  a  mania,  an  ecstasy.  In  its 
highest  form,  it  is  holy  fire  in  which  the  earthly 
soul  is  consumed  and  the  heavenly  soul  is  reborn. 

But  Plato  is  more  than  philo-sophos,  lover  of  wis- 
dom. With  the  same  intensity  and  for  the  same 
reason  he  is  phil-anthropos,  lover  of  men.  Love,  says 
the  wise  woman,  Diotima,  in  the  Symposium,  is  not 
love  of  the  beautiful' and  good  only.  Love  is  essen- 
tially love  of  "  birth  in  beauty."  "  Some,"  she  goes 
on,  "  beget  earthly  children,  but  some  are  more 
creative  in  their  souls."     "  He  who  in  youth  has  the 

(seeds  of  temperance  and  justice  implanted  in  him 
desires  to  implant  them  in  others."  Above  all, 
when  he  finds  a  fair  and  noble  and  well-nourished 
soul,  "  h^js__fuJJ^_oX_srje^cJi__a^ 
nature  anxLpursujts  of  a  good_man,,and  he  tries  to 
educate  him,  and  they  are  married  by  a  far  closer 
tie  and  have  closer  friendship  than  those  who  beget 
mortal  children,  for  the  children  who  are  their  com- 

1  As  nearly  as  I  can  characterize  the  difference,  it  is  this  ;  Plato  is  not 
himself  so  lost  in  the  ecstatic  longing  which  he  describes  as  the  Psalmist 
seems  to  be. 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XXXV 

mon  offspring  are  fairer  and  more  immortal."  In 
such  deep  fashion  would  Plato,  the  pagan,  realize 
the  maxim,  thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 

PLATO    THE   TEACHER.-lv^l4.*tc^^ 

Socrates  and  Plato  have  universal  fame  as  teach- 
ers.    Their  fame  is  usually  attributed  to  their  de- 
velopment of  the  so-called  Socratic  method  of  teach-™****- J 
ing.    That  device  requires,  therefore,  special  consid-         <? 
eration.  y 

S^crates_and_  Pjato  believed  that  the  truth  isfr^i,^ 
latent  in  Ihe^soul ;  ^that  to  waken  this  latent  trutli^^^jfc* 
into  clear  consciousness  is  very  difficult  p*that  the 
highest  means  of  achieving  this  end  is  systematic 
reflection  ;  and  that  systematic  reflection  in  its  step- 
by-step  approach  to  clear  knowledge  takes  naturally 
the  verbal  form  of  a  series  of  questions  and  answers. 
They  used  this  device  in  their  own  most  difficult  in- 
vestigations, and  with  their  most  mature  disciples. 
They  sometimes  used  it  with  less  mature  disciples, 
and  even  with  illiterate  persons.  (So,  for  example, 
in  a  passage  from  the  Meno,  much  quoted  in  educa- 
tional journals,  Socrates,  by  a  series  of  questions, 
leads  an  illiterate  slave  boy  to  see  for  himself  the 
truth  of  a  simple  geometrical  proposition.)  They 
used  the  devic^jtjimejjrjmjcally,  that  is,  for  the 
purpose  of  revealing  to  an  antagonist  the  contradic- 
tions between  his  different  assertions.  Finally,  it  is 
not  to  be  denied  that  they  sometimes  used  the  de- 
Xic^_ia_a_^n£nnej_j^ 

and  it  would  be  difficult  to  prove  that  in  all  such 
cases  the  sophistry  is  ironical. 


XXX VI  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

The  Socratic  method,  more  or  less  perfectly  un- 
derstood, has  had  great  influence  upon  professional 
Pedagogy.  In  many  schools  for  the  professional 
training  of  teachers,  and  in  many  schools  in  charge 
of  teachers  professionally  trained,  systematic  ques- 
v£  tioning  of  this  sort  is  looked  upon  as  ideal  teaching  ; 
'^'•'and  there  is  no  lack  of  conscientious  endeavor  to 
prepare  for  use  in  recitation,  series  of  questions 
which  shall  lead  the  child  mind  to  take  the  logical 
steps  which  given  occasions  require.  One  who 
doubts  the  value  of  such  systematic  questioning 
•  may  usually  be  converted  by  hearing  a  single  typi- 
cal recitation  conducted  by  a  master  of  the  art. 
The  power  of  such  a  recitation  to  touch,  move, 
chasten,  and  direct  the  soul  is  so  evident,  that  if 
Socrates  and  Plato  had  taught  us  nothing  but  how 
to  do  such  work  their  fame  as  teachers  would  be 
justified. 
:&<~~*£CSL  If,  however,  systematic  questioning  were  the 
I^L£r^  whole  Socratic  art,  we  should  be  obliged  to  say  that 
"^^that  art  stands  in  unfavorable  contrast  with  many 
other  arts  and  occupations.  For  in  most  arts  and  oc- 
cupations, systematic  procedure  is  not  the  sole  or 
highest  ideal.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  open  secret 
of  successful  men  generally  that  sj^tejxuiuistjbo^jtp 
cjjj^naslanj£e^  A  great  business  man  knows  that  the 
method  of  running  a  railroad  and  the  method  of 
running  a  kerosene  wagon  cannot  be  interchanged 
with  profit  to  either,  and  perhaps  uses  both  methods 
at  the  same  time  for  the  benefit  of  the  same  corpo- 
ration {e.g.,  The  Standard  Oil  Company).  A  great 
lawyer  knows  well  the  power  of  technicality,  but 
also  when  to  leave  the  little  men    chopping  logic 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  XXXvii 

over  legal  trivialities,  and  rest  his  case  upon  a  com- 
mon sense  principle  which  the  highest  courts  will 
declare  to  be  the  law.  A  great  general  conforms  to 
the  rules  of  military  science  when  he  is  fighting 
British  Regulars,  and  abandons  those  rules  when  he 
is  fighting  Indians  in  ambush.  (Compare  Washing- 
ton in  the  Revolution  and  Washington  at  Brad- 
dock's  Defeat.)  A  great  statesman  has  a  task  not 
unlike  that  of  the  teacher.  He  has  to  deal  with  hu- 
man beings.  He  has  to  lead  them  if  he  can,  froni^, 
their  present  position  to  a  higher.  He  has  to  in- 
struct, persuade,  convert, — achieve  with  the  folk  es- 
sentially the  same  things  that  the  teacher  has  tc 
achieve  with  the  smaller  folk.  In  doing  this  work 
he  does  not  underestimate  the  educational  value  of 
formalities,  of  platforms,  statutes,  decisions,  and  ex- 
ecutive acts.  He  knows  the  power  of  logical  argu- 
ment in  print  or  on  the  stump,  and  indeed  the  oc- 
casional value  of  Socratic  questioning  as  a  weapon 
in  debate.  (See,  for  example,  the  use  of  formal  ques- 
tions in  the  Lincoln-Douglass  debate.)  But  no  mas- 
ter statesman  wins  his  place  as  leader,  teacher, 
father  of  the  folk,  by  any  sort  of  systematic  pro- 
cedure. He  meets  men  face  to  face.  He  looks 
them  through  to  the  marrow.  He  is  subtle  as  a 
lover  to  find  the  right  word  or  the  right  silence. 
He  wins  men  for  his  idea  by  winning  them  for  him- 
self. As  Tennyson  says  :  "  He  lays  his  mind  upon 
them,  and  they  believe  in  his  belief." 

In  presence  of  such  ideals  and  achievements  among 
men  of  affairs,  what  can  be  said  of  systematic  So- 
cratic questioning  as  the  sole  or  highest  ideal  for 
teaching  ?     Is  there  nothing  in  a  child  but  logical 


XXXV111  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

apparatus  ?  Are  all  the  informal  ways  by  which 
statesmen  from  Moses  to  Lincoln  have  led  the  folk 
too  informal  and  unscientific  for  little  folk  ?  Is  that 
surely  the  best  way  of  "  leading  the  child  mind  to 
take  the  necessary  steps,"  by  which  you  would  not 
dare  try  to  elicit  the  necessary  steps,  if  you  were 
applying  for  a  position, — or  a  wife  ?  Whatever-the 
modern  professor  of  didactics  may  think  of  these 
things,  it  is  certain  that  the  power  of  Socrates  him- 
self did^not  lie  wholly  in  his  gift  for  catechising. 
He  did  not  cast  a  spell  over  the  men  of  his  genera- 
tion— business  men,  soldiers,  politicians,  philoso- 
phers, and  rakes — simply  by  subjecting  them  to 
logical  inquisition.  If  Plato  affirmed  this  of  his 
master,  those  who  know  human  nature  would  not 
believe  it.  But  Plato  says  nothing  of  the  sort.  Let 
us  turn  from  the  hand-books  on  didactics  to  Plato 
for  an  account  of  the  real  Socratic  Art. 

In  Phasdrus,  271-272,  Plato  says  that  the  orator 
(and  the  orator  in  this  case  is  essentially  a  teacher) 
should  have  three  degrees  of  knowledge  of  the  soul. 

1.  He  should  know  the  "  true  nature  of  the  soul, 
how  she  acts  or  is  acted  upon."  If  Plato's  philoso- 
phy of  teaching  had  stopped  here,  perhaps  he  would 
Jiave  supposed  that  his  systematic  questioning  was 

ie  whole  art  of  teaching.     But  he  went  farther. 

2.  The  orator  or  teacher  should  know  the  several 
1  classes  of  men,  and  "  why  one  sort  of  soul  is  per- 
suaded by  one  argument,  and  another  not." 

3.  He  is  to  become  acquainted  with  men  in  actual 
life,  and  "  be  able  to  follow  them  with  all  his  wits 
about  him,  or  he  will  never  get  beyond  the  precepts 
of  his  masters."    lie  must  in  this  way  at  last  be  able, 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION        XXXIX 

when  confronting  an  actual  man,  to  say,  "  This  is  the 
man  who  needs  this  argument  to  be  convinced  of  this 
thing."  "  When  he  has  attained  the  knowledge  of 
all  this  and  knows  when  he  should  speak,  and  when 
he  should  abstain  from  speaking,  when  he  should 
make  use  of  pithy  sayings,  pathetic  appeals,  aggra- 
vated effects  and  all  the  other  figures  of  speech,  when 
he  knows  the  times  and  seasons  of  all  these  things, 
then,  and  not  till  then,  is  he  perfect  master  of  the  art." 
This  wonderfully  inclusive  Psychology  of  Educa- 
tion.embracing  at  the  one  extreme  the  essential  nat- 
urej3f  the  soul  and  at  the  other  the  infinitely  varied 
rjeculiarities__QJL  individuals,  was  not  with  Plato  a 
merejhegrj.  KHe  practiced  the  theory  even  better 
than  he  pre  a  r  her!  \t^  As  I  have  shown,  in  speakingj^^^y 
of  Plato  as  dramatist  and  as  lover,  there  are  manylCa^ 
illustrations  of  this.  Perhaps  none  of  them  is  better 
than  the  Phasdrus,  taken  as  a  whole.  Socrates  finds 
Phasdrus  full  of  a  youth's  enthusiasm  for  a  piece  of 
brilliant  rhetoric  about  love.  There  is  little  true  in- 
sight and  no  sincerity  in  the  speech,  and  the  prose 
is  not  really  good.  How  shall  the  youth  be  sobered 
from  his  perilous  intoxication  and  given  taste  for 
wine  of  better  vintage  ?  How  shall  he  be  directed 
toward  the  acquisition  of  true  artistic  power  and 
how  shall  he  be  led  into  knowledge  and  reverence 
for  the  best  thing  in  the  world,  which  is  love.  The 
dialogue  as  a  whole  tells  how  Socrates  actually  did 
this.  It  takes  the  dialogue  as  a  whole,  its  story,  its 
arguments,  its  orations,  and  the  criticisms  upon 
them,  its  myths,  and  above  all,  its  free  and  joyous 
conversation— it  takes  all  to  explain  how  Socrates 
went  about  to  win  a  man. 


xl  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

This  is  the  true  Socratic  Art.  It  is  determined 
by  the  philosophic  insight  that  artjnust  adapt  itself 
not  only  to  the_Cjjnrnion  nature J3f_rnan,  but  also  to 
the^yarying  natures,  and  even  to  the3yarying  moods 
of  men.  It  is^determjnegL_hy_dramatic  insight  into 
the^  actual  ways  of  the  souls  addressed.  It  is  deter- 
^inedj2¥-a_p_assion  as__deep_as  it  is  tranquil  to  save 
the  best  of  the  youth_into_th£jiig.her  life. 

HOW  SHALL  ONE  READ  PLATO? 

When  corn  takes  in  stuff  from  the  soil,  the  soil  is 
changed  into  corn,  but  also  the  corn  is  changed  by 
a^bt*^  the  soil.  So  when  you  read  Plato,  Plato  is  trans- 
lated into  your  way  of  thinking,  but  also  your  way 
of  thinking  is  influenced  by  Plato.  It  is  possible  for 
either  of  these  effects  to  be  over-emphasized  to  the 
neglect  of  the  other.     The  secret  of  right  growth  is 

(to  maintain  the  right  balance  between  the  old  which 
one  has  and  the  new  which  is  asking  for  admission. 
To  find  this  balance  is  not  easy,  but  many  wise  men 
say  that  the  first  thing  to  do  with  a  new  book,  or 
anything  else  worth  attention,  is  to  surrender  one's 
self  to  it  as  completely  as  possible.  I  believe  ac- 
cordingly that  I  can  give  no  better  advice  to  one 
who  meets  Plato  for  the  first  time  in  this  volume, 
^v*^Q*Athan  that  you  should  jet  him  talk  to  you.  Imagine 
that  you  have  wandered  into  the  Athens  of  400  B.C. 
and  have  come  upon  Socrates  engaged  in  talk. 
Join  the  crowd.  Keep  still.  Try  to  catch  the  drift. 
Do  not  pigeonhole  Socrates  the  first  day.  Get  ac- 
quainted with  him  as  you  do  with  a  living  man. 
You  will   find   it  useful  without    doubt    to    study 


GENERAL   INTRODUCTION  xli 

Plato's  system  of  thought  in  the  brief  outline  which 
is  given,  or  in  the  fuller  accounts  which  you  may 
find  in  other  books.  But  if  you  suppose  that  any 
such  outline  of  doctrines  can  compass  the  fullness 
of  Plato,  you  will  not  understand  this  or  any  philos- 
ophy in  the  spirit.  With  whatever  formal  devices 
you  study  any  master-book,  the  essential  condition 
of  becoming  really  acquainted  with  it  is  that  you 
shall  live  with  it  in  joyful,  informal  fellowship. 


»  a  »  >„«>      » 
■*    >  '   )  o  •'     >  >  0 


APOLOGY 


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INTRODUCTION 

The  defense  of  Socrates  includes  an  answer  to  the  formal 
accusations  made  against  him  in  court,  and  an  answer  to 
those  who  for  years  had  attacked  his  reputation.  In  both 
cases,  the  charge  is  the  same  in  substance,— that  he  is  the 
enemy  of  the  traditional  religion  and  morality  or*  \hd  Slate. 
Those  who  brought  this  charge  before  the/  cou ^supported  -  •.. 
it  with  false  or  trivial  evidence  and  arguments.  Socrates*'  :< 
met  these  with  arguments,  which  are,  in  form,  nearly  upon 
the  same  level. 

His  numerous  unofficial  accusers,  Socrates  met  partly  by 
an  explanation  of  the  popular  misunderstanding  which  iden- 
tified him  with  the  natural  philosophers  or  with  the  Sophists, 
but  especially  by  a  declaration  of  his  own  mission  in  life, 
which  was  not  to  deny  God  but  to  know  and  obey  the  will 
of  God,  and  not  to  corrupt  but  to  save  men. 

In  studying  the  defense  of  Socrates  against  his  official  and 
unofficial  accusers,  it  should  be  seen  that  the  conflict  was  not 
merely  one  between  a  wise  and  good  man  and  a  crowd  of 
ignorant  and  malicious  ones.  The  real  conflict  was  between 
the  unwritten  religious,  moral,  and  social  constitution  of  the 
Athenian  people,  and  a  man  who  would  put  everything  in 
that  constitution  to  question  with  the  hope  of  arriving  at 
a  better.  Socrates  was  not  many  things  that  his  accusers 
charged,— not  a  natural  philosopher,  not  a  Sophist,  not  an 
atheist,  perhaps  not  a  disbeliever  in  the  popular  mythology, 
not  responsible  for  the  sins  of  young  Athenians  whom  he 

3 


4  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

had  labored  to  make  men  of.  But  the  instinct  of  the  Athe- 
nians was  not  substantially  wrong  in  holding  him  an  alien 
from  their  religion  and  morality.  "  1  do  believe  that  there 
are  gods,"  says  Socrates  in  closing  his  first  speech, "  and  in  a 
far  higher  sense  than  any  of  my  accusers  believe  in  them.,, 
Because  he  believed  in  God,  the  formal  charges  against  him 
were  false.  But  because  he  believed  in  God  in  a  far  higher 
sense  than  did  his  accusers,  he  and  his  accusers,  the  people 
of  Athens,  stood  in  real  conflict.  They  stood  for  the  religion 
and  morals  which  they  had  inherited.  He  stood  for  a 
religion  and  morality  based  upon  deeper  insight  into  the 
truth- .  lt.:\CaS  a  conflict  between  a  people  and  its  prophet. 
It  A\fas  a  fcohfltft  in  some  respects  like  that  between  the  ortho- 
:dox*\iews;  Vfcho  'would  defend  their  law  and  their  separate 
tfafioriiliiy  •a'gain'st  destruction,  and  Him  who  came  not  to 
destroy  but  to  fulfill.  In  such  a  case  the  question  decided 
is  this :  Will  the  people  rise  from  their  own  view  to  their 
prophet's  view  of  the  life  which  is  proper  for  them  ?  At 
Athens,  as  at  Jerusalem,  the  people  chose  for  their  tradi- 
tions. Socrates,  like  our  Saviour,  rejected  of  his  own,  be- 
came minister  to  all  mankind. 


How  you  have  felt,   O  men  of  Athens,   at   hearing  the 
speeches  of  my  accusers,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  know  that  their 
persuasive  words  almost  made  me  forget  who  I  was,    st    . 
such  was  the  effect  of  them ;  and  yet  they  have  hardly  ' 

spoken  a  word  of  truth.      But  many  as  their  false-  I7 

hoods  were,  there  was  one  of  them  which  quite  amazed  me :  » 
I  mean  when  they  told  you  to  be  upon  your  guard,  and  notjT^e^ 
to  let  yourselves  be  deceived  by  the  force  of  my  eloquence.  %Tr**^ 
They  ought  to  have  been  ashamed  of  saying  this,  because  tneyj22^^ 
were  sure  to  be  detected  as  soon  as  I  opened  my  lips  and  dis-^^r£^>' 
played  my  deficiency ;  they  certainly  did  appear  to  be  most^^o/^ 
shameless  in  saying  this,  unless  by  the  force  of  eloquence  they         ^> 
mean  the  force  of  truth  j  for  then  I  do  indeed  admit  that  I  am 
eloquent.     But  in  how  different  a  way  from  theirs  !     Well,  as 
I  was  saying,  they  have  hardly  uttered  a  word,  or  not  more 
than  a  word,  of  truth  ;   but  you  shall  hear  from  me  the  whole 
truth :  not,  however,  delivered  after  their  manner,  in  a  set 
oration  duly  ornamented  with  words  and  phrases.     No,  in- 
deed !  but  I  shall  use  the  words  and  arguments  which  occur 
to  me  at  the  moment ;  for  I  am  certain  that  this  is  right,  and 
that  at  my  time  of  life  I  ought  not  to  be  appearing  before  you, 
O  men  of  Athens,  in  the  character  of  a  juvenile  orator :   let 
no  one  expect  this  of  me.     And  I  must  beg  of  you  to  grant 
me  one  favor,  which  is  this, — If  you  hear  me  using  the  same 
words  in  my  defense  which  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  using 
and  which  most  of  you  may  have  heard  in  the  agora,2  and  at 
the  tables  of  the  money-changers,3  or  anywhere  else,  I  would 
ask  you  not  to  be  surprised  at  this,  and  not  to  interrupt  me. 

1  Defense. 

2  The  market-place,  corresponding  to  the  Roman  forum.  Not  only  was 
most  of  the  traffic  carried  on  here,  but  in  most  Greek  cities  it  was  the  gen- 
eral meeting-place  for  social  and  political  purposes. 

3  The  bankers  did  business  at  tables  in  the  market-place. 


6  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

For  I  am  more  than  seventy  years  of  age,  and  this  is  the  first 
time  that  I  have  ever  appeared  in  a  court  of  law,  and  I  am 
quite  a  stranger  to  the  ways  of  the  place ;  and  therefore 
'**  I  would  have  you  regard  me  as  if  I  were  really  a  stran- 
ger, whom  you  would  excuse  if  he  spoke  in  his  native  tongue,  and 
after  the  fashion  of  his  country  :  that  I  think  is  not  an  unfair 
^y  request.     Never  mind  the  manner,  which  may  or  may  not  be 

u^y^^U)  good  ;  but  think  only  of  the  justice  of  my  cause,  and  give  heed 
^**&<€*^\  to  that :  let  the  judge  decide  justly  and  the  speaker  speak  truly. 
And  first,  I  have  to  reply  to  the  older  charges  and  to  my 
first  accusers,  and  then  I  will  go  on  to  the  later  ones.  For  I 
have  had  many  accusers,  who  accused  me  of  old,  and  their 
false  charges  have  continued  during  many  years ;  and  I  am 
more  afraid  of  them  than  of  Anytus4  and  his  associates,  who 
are  dangerous,  too,  in  their  own  way.  But  far  more  danger- 
ous are  these,  who  began  when  you  were  children,  and  took 
possession  of  your  minds  with  their  falsehoods,  telling  of  one 
Socrates,  a  wise  man,  who  speculated  about  the  heaven  above, 
and  searched  into  the  earth  beneath,  and  made  the  worse 
appear  the  better  cause.  These  are  the  accusers  whom  I 
dread ;  for  they  are  the  circulators  of  this  rumor,  and  their 
hearers  are  too  apt  to  fancy  that  speculators  of  this  sort  do  not 
believe  in  the  gods.  And  they  are  many,  and  their  charges 
against  me  are  of  ancient  date,  and  they  made  them  in  days 
when  you  were  impressible, — in  childhood,  or  perhaps  in 
youth, — and  the  cause  when  heard  went  by  default,  for  there 
was  none  to  answer.  And  hardest  of  all,  their  names  I  do  not 
know  and  cannot  tell;  unless  in  the  chance  case  of  a  comic 
poet.5     But  the  main  body  of  these  slanderers  who  from  envy 

4  Anytus  (an'y-tus) :  a  wealthy  Athenian,  high  in  popular  favor,  the  most 
formidable  of  the  accusers  of  Socrates.  He  was  a  bitter  antagonist  of  the 
Sophists  and  hated  Socrates  especially  for  having  influenced  his  son  to  study 
philosophy.  He  is  said  to  have  gone  into  exile  after  the  death  of  Socrates 
to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  fickle  people.  In  the  dialogue  Meno,  Any- 
tus, incensed  at  something  Socrates  has  said,  threatens  him  thus  :  *'  I  think 
that  you  are  too  ready  to  speak  evil  of  men  ;  and,  if  you  take  my  advice  I 
would  recommend  you  to  be  careful.  Perhaps  there  is  no  city  in  which  it  is 
not  easier  to  do  men  harm  than  to  do  them  good,  and  this  is  certainly  the 
case  at  Athens,  as  I  believe  that  you  know." 

6  Aristophanes  (ar-fs-tSf a-nez) ,  444-388  B.C.,  greatest  of  the  Greek  comic 
poets,  wrote  a  comedy  called  The  Clouds,  in  which  he  ridiculed  Socrates, 
representing  him  as  a  visionary  thinker  and  as  one  who  would  break  down 
the  ancient  standards  of  morality.  This  comedy,  which  appeared  about 
twenty-four  years  before  the  trial  of  Socrates,  tended  to  make  the  general 
public  regard  Socrates  as  a  Sophist. 


APOLOGY  7 

and  malice  have  wrought  upon  you, — and  there  are  some  of 
them  who  are  convinced  themselves,  and  impart  their  convic- 
tions to  others, — all  these,  I  say,  are  most  difficult  to  deal 
with ;  for  I  cannot  have  them  up  here,  and  examine  them, 
and  therefore  I  must  simply  fight  with  shadows  in  my  own  de- 
fense, and  examine  when  there  is  no  one  who  answers.  I  will 
ask  you  then  to  assume  with  me,  as  I  was  saying,  that  my  op- 
ponents are  of  two  kinds, — one  recent,  the  other  ancient ;  and 
I  hope  that  you  will  see  the  propriety  of  my  answering  the 
latter  first,  for  these  accusations  you  heard  long  before  the 
others,  and  much  oftener. 

Well,  then,  I  will  make  my  defense,  and  I  will  endeavor  in 
the  short  time  which  is  allowed  to  do  away  with  this  evil  opinion 
of  me  which  you  have  held  for  such  a  long  time ;  and 
I  hope  that  I  may  succeed,  if  this  be  well  for  you  andfU^ilg^^a^ 
me,  and  that  my  words  rnay  find  favor  with  you.     But  I  know)L/ri 
that  to  accomplish  this  is  not  easy — I  quite  see  the  nature  of/ 
the  task.     Let  the  event  be  as  God  wills :  in  obedience  to  thea^. 
law  I  make  my  defense.  e^^jttw^ 

I  will  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  ask  what  the  accusation 
is  which  has  given  rise  to  this  slander  of  me,  and  which  has 
encouraged  Meletus6  to  proceed  against  me.  What  do  the 
slanderers  say  ?  They  shall  be  my  prosecutors,  and  I  will  sum 
up  their  words  in  an  affidavit :  "  Socrates  is  an  evil-doer,  and 
a  curious  person,  who  searches  into  things  under  the  earth  and 
in  heaven,  and  he  makes  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause ; 
and  he  teaches  the  aforesaid  doctrines  to  others. ' '  That  is  the 
nature  of  the  accusation,  and  that  is  what  you  have  seen  your- 
selves in  the  comedy  of  Aristophanes,  who  has  introduced  a 
man  whom  he  calls  Socrates,  going  about  and  saying  that  he 
can  walk  in  the  air,  and  talking  a  deal  of  nonsense  concerning 
matters  of  which  I  do  not  pretend  to  know  either  much  or 
little — not  that  I  mean  to  say  anything  disparaging  of  any 
one  who  is  a  student  of  natural  philosophy.  I  should  be  very 
sorry  if  Meletus  could  lay  that  to  my  charge.  But  the  simple 
truth  is,  O  Athenians,  that  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  these 
studies.     Very  many  of  those  here  present  are  witnesses  to  the 

6  Meletus  (me-le'tus)  :  an  obscure  young  tragic  poet,  who  made  the  formal 
accusation  against  Socrates.  He  was  the  least  important  of  the  three  ac- 
cusers and  is  said  to  have  been  stoned  to  death  by  the  people  in  their  revul- 
sion of  feeling  after  the  death  of  Socrates. 


8  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

truth  of  this,  and  to  them  I  appeal.  Speak  then,  you  who 
have  heard  me,  and  tell  your  neighbors  whether  any  of  you 
have  ever  known  me  hold  forth  in  few  words  or  in  many  upon 
matters  of  this  sort.  .  .  .  You  hear  their  answer. 
And  from  what  they  say  of  this  you  will  be  able  to  judge  of 
the  truth  of  the  rest. 

As  little  foundation  is   there  for  the  report  that  I  am  a 
teacher,  and  take  money ;  that  is  no  more  true  than  the  other. 
Although,  if  a  man  is  able  to  teach,  I  honor  him  for  being 
paid.     There  is  Gorgias  of  Leontium,  and  Prodicus  of  Ceos, 
and  Hippias  of  Elis,7  who  go  the  round  of  the  cities,  and  are 
able  to  persuade  the  young  men  to  leave  their  own  citizens, 
by  whom  they  might  be  taught  for  nothing,  and   come  to 
them  whom  they  not  only  pay,  but  are  thankful  if  they 
2         may  be  allowed  to  pay  them.     There  is  actually  a  Parian 
philosopher 8  residing  in  Athens,  of  whom  I  have  heard  ;  and 
I  came  to  hear  of  him  in  this  way  :  I  met  a  man  who  has 
spent  a  world  of  money  on  the  Sophists,  Callias9  the  son  of 
Hipponicus,  and  knowing  that  he  had  sons,  I  asked  him  : 
"Callias,"  I  said,  "  if  .your  two  sons  were  foals  or  calves, 
there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  finding  some  one  to  put  over 
them  j  we  should  hire  a  trainer  of  horses,  or  a  farmer  prob- 
ably,  who  would  improve  and  perfect  them  in  their  own 
<^Cc^    proper  virtue  and  excellence  :  but  as  they  are  human  beings, 
.»^22Cr^hom  are  youThinking  of  placing  over  them  ?     Is  there  any 
V***Je4^T)ne  who  understands  human  and  political  virtue  ?     You  must 
yj^*/£5^nave  thought  about  this  as  you  have  sons ;  is  there  any  one?  " 
£5C^£^  There  is,"  he  said.     "  Who  is  he  ?  "  said  I,  "  and  of  what 
'  country  ?  and  what  does  he  charge  ?  "     "  Evenus  the  Parian, ' ' 
he  replied  ;  "  he  is  the  man,  and  his  charge  is  five  minae."  10 
Happy  is  Evenus,  I  said  to  myself,  if  he  really  has  this  wis- 


7  Of  these  three  Sophists,  the  most  famous  was  Gorgias  (gor'jf-as),  a  native 
of  Leontini  in  Sicily.  One  of  Plato's  dialogues  bears  his  name.  He  was  a 
great  rhetorician  and  the  founder  of  a  school  of  oratory.  He  was  very  popu- 
lar and  received  large  fees.  Prodicus  (prod'f-kus).  Hippias  (hip'pi-as).  See 
Protagoras,  note  i. 

8  Evenus  (e-ve'nus)  of  Paros  (pa'ros,  an  island  in  the  ;£gean):  mentioned 
in  the  Phaedo  as  a  poet,  and  in  the  Phaedrus  as  the  inventor  of  certain  rhe- 
torical devices. 

8  Callias  (kai'lf-as) :  an  Athenian  of  noble  and  wealthy  family,  and  a  great 
admirer  of  the  Sophists.     His  house  is  the  scene  of  Plato's  Protagoras. 

10  Mina  (ml'na)  ;  pi.  Minae  (mi'ne)  or  Minas  :  a  sum  of  money  varying  in 
value  ;  in  Athens,  about  $16  or  $18. 


APOLOGY  9 

dom,  and  teaches  at  such  a  modest  charge.11  Had  I  the 
same,  I  should  have  been  very  proud  and  conceited  ;  but  the 
truth  is  that  I  have  no  knowledge  of  the  kind,  O  Athenians. 

I  dare  say  that  some  one  will  ask  the  question,  "Why  is 
this,  Socrates,  and  what  is  the  origin  of  these  accusations  of 
you:  for  there  must  have  been  something  strange  which  you 
have  been  doing  ?  All  this  great  fame  and  talk  about  you 
would  never  have  arisen  if  you  had  been  like  other  men  :  tell 
us,  then,  why  this  is,  as  we  should  be  sorry  to  judge  hastily  of 
you."  Now  I  regard  this  as  a  fair  challenge,  and  I  will  en- 
deavor to  explain  to  you  the  origin  of  this  name  of  "  wise," 
and  of  this  evil  fame.  Please  to  attend,  then.  And  al- 
though some  of  you  may  think  that  I  am  joking,  I  declare  that 
I  will  tell  you  the  entire  truth.  Men  of  Athens,  this  reputa- 
tion of  mine  has  come  of  a  certain  sort  of  wisdom  which  I 
possess.  If  you  ask  me  what  kind  of  wisdom,  I  reply,  such 
wisdom  as  is  attainable  by  man,  for  to  that  extent  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe  that  I  am  wise ;  whereas  the  persons  of  whom 
I  was  speaking  have  a  superhuman  wisdom,  which  I  may  fail 
to  describe,  because  I  have  it  not  myself;  and  he  who  says  that 
I  have,  speaks  falsely,  and  is  taking  away  my  character.  And 
here,  O  men  of  Athens,  I  must  beg  you  not  to  interrupt  me, 
even  if  I  seem  to  say  something  extravagant.  For  the  word 
which  I  will  speak  is  not  mine.  I  will  refer  you  to  a  witness 
who  is  worthy  of  credit,  and  will  tell  you  about  my  wisdom 
— whether  I  have  any,  and  of  what  sort — and  that  witness 
shall  be  the  God  of  Delphi.12  You  must  have  known  Chaere- 
phon  ; 13  he  was  early  a  friend  of  mine,  and  also  a  friend 
of  yours,  for  he  shared  in  the  exile  of  the  people,14  and 
returned  with  you.  Well,  Chaerephon,  as  you  know,  was 
very  impetuous  in  all  his  doings,  and  he  went  to  Delphi  and 

"  The  Sophists  Gorgias  and  Protagoras  are  said  to  have  received  as  much 
as  one  hundred  minas. 

"  Delphi  (del'ff),  a  small  city  in  central  Greece,  was  the  seat  of  one  of 
the  most  famous  oracles.  Here  Apollo,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  benef- 
icent of  the  Greek  gods,  was  supposed  to  inspire  his  prophetess  and  through 
her  reveal  his  will  to  those  who  came  to  consult  him.  This  priestess  of 
Apollo  was  sometimes  called  the  Pythian  prophetess  because  the  ancient 
name  of  Delphi  was  Pytho  (py'tho). 

13  Chaerephon  (ker'e-fon) :  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Socrates. 

"The  Peloponnesian  War  (431-404  B.c),  was  a  conflict  between  Athens 
and  Sparta  in  which  Athens  was  defeated.  Sparta  placed  Athens  under  the 
control  of  a  Council  of  Thirty.  Under  these  tyrants  Athens  suffered  many 
cruelties,  one  of  them  being  the  exile  of  many  of  her  citizens. 


IO  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

boldly  asked  the  oracle  to  tell  him  whether — as  I  was  saying, 
I  must  beg  you  not  to  interrupt — he  asked  the  oracle  to  tell 
him  whether  there  was  any  one  wiser  than  I  was,  and  the 
Pythian  prophetess  answered,  that  there  was  no  man  wiser. 
Chaerephon  is  dead  himself,  but  his  brother,  who  is  in  court, 
will  confirm  the  truth  of  this  story. 

Why  do  I  mention  this  ?  Because  I  am  going  to  explain 
to  you  why  I  have  such  an  evil  name.  When  I  heard  the  an- 
swer, I  said  to  myself,  What  can  the  god  mean  ?  and  what  is 
the  interpretation  of  this  riddle?  for  I  know  that  I  have  no 
wisdom,  small  or  great.  What  can  he  mean  when  he  says 
that  I  am  the  wisest  of  men  ?  And  yet  he  is  a  god  and  can- 
not lie  ;  that  would  be  against  his  nature.  After  a  long  con- 
sideration, I  at  last  thought  of  a  method  of  trying  the  ques- 
tion. I  reflected  that  if  I  could  only  find  a  man  wiser  than 
myself,  then  I  might  go  to  the  god  with  a  refutation  in  my 
hand.  I  should  say  to  him,  "  Here  is  a  man  who  is  wiser 
than  I  am  ;  but  you  said  that  I  was  the  wisest."  Accord- 
ingly I  went  to  one  who  had  the  reputation  of  wisdom, 
and  observed  him — his  name  I  need  not  mention  ;  he  was  a 
politician  whom  I  selected  for  examination — and  the  result 
was  as  follows :  When  I  began  to  talk  with  him,  I  could  not 
help  thinking  that  he  was  not  really  wise,  although  he  was 
thought  wise  by  many,  and  wiser  still  by  himself ;  and  I  went 
and  tried  to  explain  to  him  that  he  thought  himself  wise,  but 
was  not  really  wise ;  and  the  consequence  was  that  he  hated 
me,  and  his  enmity  was  shared  by  several  who  were  present 
and  heard  me.  So  I  left  him,  saying  to  myself,  as  I  went 
away :  Well,  although  I  do  not  suppose  that  either  of  us 
knows  anything  really  beautiful  and  good,  I  am  better  off 
than  he  is, — for  he  knows  nothing,  and  thinks  that  he  knows. 
1  neither  know  nor  think  that  I  know.  In  this  latter  particu- 
lar, then,  I  seem  to  have  slightly  the  advantage  of  him. 
Then  I  went  to  another  who  had  still  higher  philosophical 
pretensions,  and  my  conclusion  was  exactly  the  same.  I 
made  another  enemy  of  him,  and  of  many  others  beside  him. 

After  this  I  went  to  one  man  after  another,  being  not  un- 
conscious of  the  enmity  which  I  provoked,  and  I  lamented 
and  feared  this  :  but  necessity  was  laid  upon  me, — the  word 
of  God,  I  thought,  ought  to  be  considered  first.  And  I  said 
to  myself,  Go  I  must  to  all  who  appear  to  know,  and  find  out 


APOLOGY  1 1 

the  meaning  of  the  oracle.  And  I  swear  to  you,  Athenians, 
by  the  dog  15 1  swear  ! — for  I  must  tell  you  the  truth — the  re- 
sult of  my  mission  was  just  this  :  I  found  that  the  men  most 
in  repute  were  all  but  the  most  foolish ;  and  that  some  infe- 
rior men  were  really  wiser  and  better.  I  will  tell  you 
the  tale  of  my  wanderings  and  of  the  "  Herculean  " 
labors,  as  I  may  call  them,  which  I  endured  only  to  find  at 
last  the  oracle  irrefutable.  When  I  left  the  politicians,  I  went 
to  the  poets  ;  tragic,  dithyrambic,16  and  all  sorts.  And  there, 
I  said  to  myself,  you  will  be  detected ;  now  you  will  find  out 
that  you  are  more  ignorant  than  they  are.  Accordingly,  I 
took  them  some  of  the  most  elaborate  passages  in  their  own 
writings,  and  asked  what  was  the  meaning  of  them — think- 
ing that  they  would  teach  me  something.  Will  you  believe 
me  ?  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  speak  of  this,  but  still  I  must 
say  that  there  is  hardly  a  person  present  who  would  not  have 
talked  better  about  their  poetry  than  they  did  themselves. 
That  showed  me  in  an  instant  that  not  by  wisdom  do  poets 
write  poetry,  but  by  a  sort  of  genius  and  inspiration  17 ;  they 
are  like  diviners  or  soothsayers  who  also  say  many  fine  things, 
but  do  not  understand  the  meaning  of  them.  And  the  poets 
appeared  to  me  to  be  much  in  the  same  case ;  and  I  further 
observed  that  upon  the  strength  of  their  poetry  they  believed 
themselves  to  be  the  wisest  of  men  in  other  things  in  which 
they  were  not  wise.  So  I  departed,  conceiving  myself  to  be 
superior  to  them  for  the  same  reason  that  I  was  superior  to 
the  politicians. 

At  last  I  went  to  the  artisans,  for  I  was  conscious  that  I 
knew  nothing  at  all,  as  I  may  say,  and  I  was  sure  that  they 
knew  many  fine  things ;  and  in  this  I  was  not  mistaken,  for 
they  did  know  many  things  of  which  I  was  ignorant,  and  in 
this  they  certainly  were  wiser  than  I  was.  But  I  observed 
that  even  the  good  artisans  fell  into  the  same  error  as  the 
poets;  because  they  were  good  workmen  they  thought  that 
they  also  knew  all  sorts  of  high  matters,  and  this  defect  in 
them  overshadowed  their  wisdom  —  therefore  I  asked  myself 
on  behalf  of  the  oracle,  whether  I  would  like  to  be  as  I  was, 
neither  having  their  knowledge  nor  their  ignorance,  or  like 

15  An  oath,  of  uncertain,  possibly  Egyptian  origin,  often  used  by  Socrates. 

16  The  dithyramb  was  a  kind  of  lyric  poem. 

17  Compare  Phaedrus,  245. 


12  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

them  in  both ;  and  I  made  answer  to  myself  and  the  oracle 
that  I  was  better  off  as  I  was. 

This  investigation  has  led  to  my  having  many  enemies  of 
the  worst  and  most  dangerous  kind,  and  has  given  occasion 
also  to  many  calumnies.  And  I  am  called  wise,  for  my 
hearers  always  imagine  that  I  myself  possess  the  wisdom 
which  I  find  wanting  in  others :  but  the  truth  is,  O  men  of 
Athens,  that  God  only  is  wise ;  and  in  this  oracle  he  means 
to  say  that  the  wisdom  of  men  is  little  or  nothing ;  he  is  not  * 
speaking  of  Socrates,  he  is  only  using  my  name  as  an  illustra- 
tion, as  if  he  said,  He,  O  men,  is  the  wisest,  who,  like  Soc- 
rates, knows  that  his  wisdom  is  in  truth  worth  nothing.  And 
so  I  go  my  way,  obedient  to  the  god,  and  make  inquisition 
into  the  wisdom  of  any  one,  whether  citizen  or  stranger,  who 
appears  to  be  wise ;  and  if  he  is  not  wise,  then  in  vindication 
of  the  oracle  I  show  him  that  he  is  not  wise  ;  and  this  occupa- 
tion quite  absorbs  me,  and  I  have  no  time  to  give  either  to 
any  public  matter  of  interest  or  to  any  concern  of  my  own, 
but  I  am  in  utter  poverty 18  by  reason  of  my  devotion  to  the 
god. 

There  is  another  thing  : — young  men  of  the  richer  classes, 
who  have  not  much  to  do,  come  about  me  of  their  own  accord  ; 
they  like  to  hear  the  pretenders  examined,  and  they  often  imi- 
tate me,  and  examine  others  themselves ;  19  there  are  plenty  of 
persons,  as  they  soon  enough  discover,  who  think  that  they 
know  something,  but  really  know  little  or  nothing :  and  then 
those  who  are  examined  by  them  instead  of  being  angry  with 
themselves  are  angry  with  me  :  This  confounded  Socrates,  they 
say ;  this  villainous  misleader  of  youth  ! — and  then  if  some- 
body asks  them,  Why,  what  evil  does  he  practise  or  teach  ? 
they  do  not  know,  and  cannot  tell ;  but  in  order  that  they 
may  not  appear  to  be  at  a  loss,  they  repeat  the  ready-made 
charges  which  are  used  against  all  philosophers  about  teaching 
things  up  in  the  clouds  and  under  the  earth,  and  having  no 
gods,  and  making  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause  ;  for  they 
do  not  like  to  confess  that  their  pretense  of  knowledge  has 
been  detected — which  is  the  truth  :  and  as  they  are  numerous 
and  ambitious  and  energetic,  and  are  all  in  battle  array  and 
have  persuasive  tongues,  they  have  filled  your  ears  with  their 

18  Socrates  was  notoriously  neglectful  of  his  own  private  interests. 

19  Compare  Republic  VII.,  539:  "  They  must  not  be  allowed  to  taste,"  etc. 


APOLOGY  13 

loud  and  inveterate  calumnies.  And  this  is  the  reason  why 
my  three  accusers,  Meletus  and  Anytus  and  Lycon,20  have  set 
upon  me  :  Meletus,  who  has  a  quarrel  with  me  on  behalf  of 
the  poets  ;  Anytus,  on  behalf  of  the  craftsmen  ;  Lycon,  on 
behalf  of  the  rhetoricians  :  and  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  I 
cannot  expect  to  get  rid  of  this  mass  of  calumny  all  in  a 
moment.  And  this,  O  men  of  Athens,  is  the  truth  and  ^7" 
the  whole  truth ;  I  have  concealed  nothing,  I  have  dis- 
sembled nothing.  And  yet,  I  know  that  this  plainness  of 
speech  makes  them  hate  me,  and  what  is  their  hatred  but  a 
proof  that  I  am  speaking  the  truth  ? — this  is  the  occasion  and 
reason  of  their  slander  of  me,  as  you  will  find  out  either  in 
this  or  in  any  future  inquiry. 

I  have  said  enough  in  my  defense  against  the  first  class  of 
my  accusers ;  I  turn  to  the  second  class  who  are  headed  by 
Meletus,  that  good  and  patriotic  man,  as  he  calls  himself. 
And  now  I  will  try  to  defend  myself  against  them  :  these  new 
accusers  must  also  have  their  affidavit  read.  What  do  they 
say  ?  Something  of  this  sort  :  That  Socrates  is  a  doer  of  evil, 
and  corrupter  of  the  youth,  and  he  does  not  believe  in  the 
gods  of  the  State,  and  has  other  new  divinities  of  his  own. 
That  is  the  sort  of  charge ;  and  now  let  us  examine  the 
particular  counts.  He  says  that  I  am  a  doer  of  evil,  who 
corrupt  the  youth  ;  but  I  say,  O  men  of  Athens,  that  Meletus 
is  a  doer  of  evil,  and  the  evil  is  that  he  makes  a  joke  of  a 
serious  matter,  and  is  too  ready  at  bringing  other  men  to  trial 
from  a  pretended  zeal  and  interest  about  matters  in  which  he 
really  never  had  the  smallest  interest.  And  the  truth  of  this 
I  will  endeavor  to  prove. 

[By  questioning  Meletus,  Socrates  brings  out  the  fact  that 
Meletus  himself  is  careless  about  the  improvement  of  the 
youth.  In  answer  to  the  charge  that  he  corrupts  the  youth, 
Socrates  shows  how  inconceivable  it  is  that  a  man  should 
intentionally  injure  citizens  among  whom  he  has  to  live  and 
from  whom  he  must  expect  evil  in  return  as  Meletus  admits. 
The  declaration  of  Meletus  that  Socrates  is  an  atheist  is 
shown  to  contradict  the  charge  that  he  is  introducing  new 
gods.] 

*»  Lycon  (lylcon) :  a  rhetorician  and  orator,  said  to  have  been  banished 
for  his  part  in  the  prosecution  of  Socrates. 


14  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

I  have  said  enough  in  answer  to  the  charge  of  Meletus :  any- 
elaborate  defense  is  unnecessary  ;  but  as  I  was  saying  before, 

R  I  certainly  have  many  enemies,  and  this  is  what  will  be  my 
2  destruction  if  I  am  destroyed ;  of  that  I  am  certain  ;  not 
Meletus,  nor  yet  Anytus,  but  the  envy  and  detraction  of  the 
world,  which  has  been  the  death  of  many  good  men,  and  will 
probably  be  the  death  of  many  more ;  there  is  no  danger  of 
my  being  the  last  of  them. 

"Some  one  will  say  :  And  are  you  not  ashamed,  Socrates,  of 
a  course  of  life  which  is  likely  to  bring  you  to  an  untimely 
end?  To  him  I  may  fairly  answer:  There  you  are  mistaken : 
a  man  who  is  good  for  anything  ought  not  to  calculate  the 
chance  of  living  or  dying ;  he  ought  only  to  consider  whether 
in  doing  anything  he  is  doing  right^orwrong — acting  the  part 
of  a  good  man  or  of  a  bad'.'  Whereas,  according  to  your  view, 
the  heroes  who  fell  at  Troy21  were  not  good  for  much,  and  the 
son  of  Thetis  above  all,  who  altogether  despised  danger  in 
comparison  with  disgrace ;  and  when  his  goddess  mother  said 
to  him,  in  his  eagerness  to  slay  Hector,  that  if  he  avenged  his 
companion  Patroclus,  and  slew  Hector,  he  would  die  himself, 
— "  Fate,"  as  she  said,  "  waits  upon  you  next  after  Hector; " 
he,  hearing  this,  utterly  despised  danger  and  death,  and  in- 
stead of  fearing  them,  feared  rather  to  live  in  dishonor,  and  not 
to  avenge  his  friend.  "  Let  me  die  next,"  he  replies,  "and 
be  avenged  of  my  enemy,  rather  than  abide  here  by  the  beaked 
ships,  a  scorn  and  a  burden  of  the  earth."  Had  Achilles 
any  thought  of  death  and  danger?  For  wherever  a  man's 
place  is,  whether  the  place  which  he  has  chosen  or  that  in 
which  he  has  been  placed  by  a  commander,  there  he  ought  to 
remain  in  the  hour  of  danger  j  he  should  not  think  of  death 
or  of  anything,  but  of  disgrace.  And  this,  O  men  of  Athens, 
is  a  true  saying. 

Strange,  indeed,  would  be  my  conduct,  O  men  of  Athens, 
if  I  who,  when  I  was  ordered  by  the  generals  whom  you  chose 

21  According  to  legend,  Helen,  the  beautiful  wife  of  KingMenelaus  (men'~ 
e-la'us)  of  Sparta,  was  carried  off  to  Troy  during  her  husband's  absence,  by 
Paris,  son  of  King  Priam  of  Troy.  Under  the  leadership  of  Agamemnon 
(ag'a-mem'n5n)  brother  of  Menelaus,  the  Greeks  went  to  Troy  and  besieged 
the  city  for  ten  years  before  it  was  finally  taken  and  Helen  recovered.  This 
war  is  the  subject  of  Homer's  Iliad.  Achilles  (a-kfl'lez),  son  of  the  sea- 
nymph  Thetis  (the'tis),  was  the  bravest  of  the  Greek  heroes.  His  friend 
Patroclus  (pat-ro'klus)  fell  by  the  spear  of  the  Trojan  warrior  Hector.  To 
avenge  this  death,  Achilles  engaged  in  combat  with  Hector  and  slew  him. 


APOLOGY  1 5 

to  command  me  at  Potidaea  and  Amphipolis  and  Delium,22 

remained  where  they  placed  me,  like  any  other  man,  facing 

death, — if,  I  say,  now,  when,  as  I  conceive  and  imagine,  God 

orders  me  to  fulfill  the  philosopher's  mission  of  searching  into 

myself  and  other  men,  I  were  to  desert  my  post  through 

fear  of  death,  or  any  other  fear  ;  that  would  indeed  be 

strange,  and  I  might  justly  be  arraigned  in  court  for  denying 

the  existence  of  the  gods,  if  I  disobeyed  the  oracle  because  I 

was  afraid  of  death  :  then  I  should  be  fancying  that  I  was 

wise  when  I  was  not  wise.     For  this  fear  of  deat  his  indeed 

the  pretense  of  wisdom,   and  not  real   wisdom,  being   the 

appearance  of  knowing  the  unknown  ;  since  no  one  knows 

whether  death,  which  they  in  their  fear  apprehend  to  be  the 

greatest  evil,  may  not  be  the  greatest  good.    Is  there  not  here 

conceit  of  knowledge,  which  is  a  disgraceful  sort  of  ignorance  ? 

And  this  is  the  point  in  which,  as  I  think,  I  am  superior  to 

men  in  general,  and  in  which  I  might  perhaps  fancy  myself 

wiser  than  other  men, — that  whereas  I  know  but  little  of  the 

world  below,23  I  do  not  suppose  that  I  know  i^'but  I  do  knows^k^^y^  * 

that  injustice  and  disobedience  to  a  better,  whether  God  or  P 

man,  is  evil  and  dishonorable,  and  I  will  never  fear  or  avoid  a 

possible  good  rather  than  a  certain  evil."  And  therefore  if  you 

22  In  the  hostilities  preceding  and  during  the  Peloponnesian  War  (see  note 
14),  Socrates  served  as  foot  soldier  in  battles  at  Potidaea  (pot'i-de'a)  in  Mace- 
donia in  432  B.C.;  at  Delium  (de'li-um)  in  Boeotia  (be-o'shl-a)  in  424  B.C.;  at 
Amphipolis  (am-ffp'o-lis)  in  Macedonia,  in  422  B.  c. 

23  The  Greeks  believed  that  the  world  of  the  dead  was  in  the  depths  of  the 
earth.  In  the  most  ancient  usage,  Hades  meant  simply  the  world  of  the 
dead,  inhabited  by  incorporeal  images  having  the  form  of  the  earthly  body 
and  following  the  occupations  of  the  earthly  life,  but,  except  by  special  favor 
of  the  gods,  without  consciousness.  Later,  Hades  was  made  to  include  a 
place  for  the  blessed  (Elysium,  or  the  Islands  of  the  Blest),  and  a  place  for 
the  damned,  Tartarus  (tar'ta-rus),  the  inhabitants  of  both  being  of  course  con- 
scious of  their  states.  The  Hebrew  word  Sheol  (she'ol)  made  familiar  by 
its  use  in  the  revised  version  of  the  English  Bible,  passed  through  a  some- 
what similar  change  of  meaning  and  in  the  Septuagint,  the  ancient  Greek 
translation  of  the  Old  Testament,  is  usually  translated  by  the  Greek  word 
Hades.  When  the  authorized  version  of  the  English  Bible  was  made  in 
1611,  the  word  hell  still  sometimes  retained  the  meaning,  the  place  of  the 
dead,  although  it  had  also  the  meaning,  the  place  of  the  damned.  The  word 
hell  was  therefore,  as  a  rule,  properly  used  to  translate  Sheol  and  Hades. 
Now  that  our  word  hell  has  lost  its  general  meaning,  the  place  of  the  dead, 
it  is  no  longer  equivalent  to  Sheol  and  Hades  ;  and  since  we  have  now  no 
English  word  for  the  place  of  the  dead,  the  revised  version  of  the  English 
Bible  simply  transfers  Sheol  (nearly  always)  and  Hades  (always)  into  Eng- 
lish spelling.  This  explanation  of  a  word  much  used  by  Plato  is  made 
necessary  because  of  the  popular  misconception  that  Hades  is  a  mild  term 
for  the  place  of  eternal  torment. 


l6  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

let  me  go  now,  and  reject  the  counsels  of  Anytus,  who  said 
that  if  I  were  not  put  to  death  I  ought  not  to  have  been  prose- 
cuted, and  that  if  I  escape  now,  your  sons  will  all  be  utterly 
ruined  by  listening  to  my  words, — if  you  say  to  me,  Socrates, 
this  time  we  will  not  mind  Anytus,  and  will  let  you  off,  but 
upon  one  condition,  that  you  are  not  to  inquire  and  speculate 
in  this  way  any  more,  and  that  if  you  are  caught  doing  this 
again  you  shall  die, — if  this  was  the  condition  on  which  you 
let  me  go,  I  should  reply  :  Men  of  Athens,  I  honor  and  love 
you ;  but  I  shall  obey  God  rather  than  you,24  and  while  I  have 
life  and  strength  I  shall  never  cease  from  the  practice  and 
teaching  of  philosophy,  exhorting  any  one  whom  I  meet  after 
my  manner,  and  convincing  him,  saying :  O  my  friend,  why 
do  you,  who  are  a  citizen  of  the  great  and  mighty  and  wise 
-  /city  of  Athens,  care  so  much  about  laving  up.  the  greatest 

^*itf'*****' Amount,  of  money  and  honor  and  reputation,  and  so  little 
V  ,/about  wisdom  and  truth  and  the  greatest  improvement  of  the 

^l^^^^a^\souL23  which  you  never  regard  or  heed  at  all  ?  Are  you  not 
ashamed  of  this  ?  And  if  the  person  with  whom  I  am  argu- 
ing, says,  Yes,  but  I  do  care :  I  do  not  depart  or  let  him  go  at 
once  ;  I  interrogate  and  examine  and  cross-examine  him,  and 
if  I  think  that  he  has  no  virtue,  but  only  says  that  he  has,  I 
reproach  him  with  undervaluing  the  greater,  and  overvaluing 
the  less.  And  this  I  should  say  to  every  one  whom  I 
meet,  young  and  old,  citizen  and  alien,  but  especially 
to  the  citizens,  inasmuch  as  they  are  my  brethren.  For  this 
is  the  command  to  God,  as  I  would  have  you  know ;  and  I 
believe  that  to  this  day  no  greater  good  has  ever  happened  in 
the  State  than  my  service  to  the  God.  For  I  do  nothing  but 
,  go  about  persuading  you  all,  old  and  young  alike,  not  to  take 
thought  for  your  persons  or  your  properties,  but  first  and 
chiefly  to  care  about  the  greatest  improvement  of  the  soul.  I 
tell  you  that  virtue  is  not  given  by  money,  but  that  from  virt- 
ue come  money  and  every  other  good  of  man,  public  as  well 
as  private.36  This  is  my  teaching,  and  if  this  is  the  doctrine 
which  corrupts  the  youth,  my  influence  is  ruinous  indeed. 
But  if  any  one  says  that  this  is  not  my  teaching,  he  is  speak- 

M  "We  ought  to  obey  God  rather  than  men.''— Acts  v.  29. 

38  "  For  a  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which 
he  possesseth." — Luke  xii.  15. 

a«  "  But  rather  seek  ye  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  all  these  tilings  shall  be 
added  unto  you." — Luke  xii.  31. 


APOLOGY  ,  17 

ing  an  untruth.  Wherefore,  O  men  of  Athens,  I  say  to  you, 
do  as  Anytus  bids  or  not  as  Anytus  bids,  and  either  acquit  me 
or  not ;  but  whatever  you  do,  know  that  I  shall  never  alter 
my  ways,  not  even  if  I  have  to  die  many  times. 

Men  of  Athens,  do  not  interrupt,  but  hear  me ;  there  was 
an  agreement  between  us  that  you  should  hear  me  out.  And 
I  think  that  what  I  am  going  to  say  will  do  you  good  :  for  I 
have  something  more  to  say,  at  which  you  may  be  inclined  to 
cry  out ;  but  I  beg  that  you  will  not  do  this.  I  would  have 
you  know,  that  if  you  kill  such  a  one  as  I  am,  you  will 
injure  yourselves  more  than  you  will  injure  me.  Meletus  and 
Anytus  will  not  injure  me  :  they  cannot ;  for  it  is  not  in  the 
nature  of  things  that  a  bad  man  should  injure  a  better  than 
himself.  I  do  not  deny  that  he  may,  perhaps,  kill  him,  or 
drive  him  into  exile,  or  deprive  him  of  civil  rights ;  and  he 
may  imagine,  and  others  may  imagine,  that  he  is  doing  him  a 
great  injury  :  but  in  that  I  do  not  agree  with  him  ;  for  the  evil 
of  doing  as  Anytus  is  doing — of  unjustly  taking  away  another 
man's  life — is  greater  far.  And  now,  Athenians,  I  am  not 
going  to  argue  for  my  own  sake,  as  you  may  think,  but  for 
yours,  that  you  may  not  sin  against  the  God,  or  lightly  reject 
his  boon  by  condemning  me.  For  if  you  kill  me  you  will  not 
easily  find  another  like  me,  who,  if  I  may  use  such  a  ludicrous 
figure  of  speech,  am  a  sort  of  gadfly,  given  to  the  State  by  the 
God  ;  and  the  State  is  like  a  great  and  noble  steed  who  is  tardy 
in  his  motions  owing  to  his  very  size,  and  requires  to  be  stirred 
into  life.  I  am  that  gadfly  which  God  has  given  the  State,  and 
all  day  long  and  in  all  places  am  always  fastening  upon 
you,  arousing  and  persuading  and  reproaching  you.  And 
as  you  will  not  easily  find  another  like  me,  I  would  advise  you 
to  spare  me.  I  dare  say  that  you  may  feel  irritated  at  being 
suddenly  awakened  when  you  are  caught  napping  ;  and  you  may 
think  that  if  you  were  to  strike  me  dead  as  Anytus  advises, 
which  you  easily  might,  then  you  would  sleep  on  for  the 
remainder  of  your  lives,  unless  God  in  his  care  of  you  gives  you 
another  gadfly.  And  that  I  am  given  to  you  by  God  is  proved 
by  this  :  that  if  I  had  been  like  other  men,  I  should  not  have 
neglected  all  my  own  concerns,  or  patiently  seen  the  neglect  of 
them  during  all  these  years,  and  have  been  doing  yours,  coming 
to  you  individually,  like  a  father  or  elder  brother,  exhorting 
you  to  regard  virtue ;  this,  I  say,  would  not  be  like  human 


18  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

nature.  And  had  I  gained  anything,  or  if  my  exhortations 
had  been  paid,  there  would  have  been  some  sense  in  that  :  but 
now,  as  you  will  perceive,  not  even  the  impudence  of  my  accus- 
ers dares  to  say  that  I  have  ever  exacted  or  sought  pay  of  any 
one  ;  they  have  no  witness  of  that.  And  I  have  a  witness  of 
the  truth  of  what  I  say  ;  my  poverty  is  a  sufficient  witness. 

Some  one  may  wonder  why  I  go  about  in  private,  giving 
advice  and  busying  myself  with  the  concerns  of  others,  but  do 
not  venture  to  come  forward  in  public  and  advise  the  State.  I 
will  tell  you  the  reason  of  this.  You  have  often  heard  me 
speak  of  an  oracle  or  sign 27  which  comes  to  me,  and  is  the  divin- 
ity which  Meletus  ridicules  in  the  indictment.  This  sign  I  have 
had  ever  since  I  was  a  child.  The  sign  is  a  voice  which  comes 
to  me  and  always  forbids  me  to  do  something  which  I  am  going 
to  do,  but  never  commands  me  to  do  anything,  and  this  is  what 
stands  in  the  way  of  my  being  a  politician.  And  rightly,  as  I 
think.  For  I  am  certain,  O  men  of  Athens,  that  if  I  had  en- 
gaged in  politics,  I  should  have  perished  long  ago,  and  done  no 
good  either  to  you  or  to  myself.  And  don't  be  offended  at  my 
telling  you  the  truth  :  for  the  truth  is,  that  no  man  who  goes  to 
war  with  you  or  any  other  multitude,  honestly  struggling  against 
the  commission  of  unrighteousness  and  wrong  in  the  State,  will 
save  his  life ;  he  who  will  really  fight  for  the  right,  if  he 
would  live  even  for  a  little  while,  must  have  a  private  sta- 
tion and  not  a  public  one.28 

I  can  give  you  as  proofs  of  this,  not  words  only,  but  deeds, 
which  you  value  more  than  words.  Let  me  tell  you  a  passage 
of  my  own  life,  which  will  prove  to  you  that  I  should  never 
have  yielded  to  injustice  from  any  fear  of  death,  and  that  if  I 
had  not  yielded  I  should  have  died  at  once.  I  will  tell  you  a 
story — tasteless,  perhaps,  and  commonplace,  but  nevertheless 
true.  The  only  office  of  state  which  I  ever  held,  O  men  of 
Athens,  was  that  of  senator 29 ;  the  tribe  Antiochis,  which  is  my 

27  Socrates  frequently  speaks  of  this  sign  or  voice.  He  seems  to  have  re- 
garded it  not  as  a  personal  divinity,  but  as  a  divine  influence. 

2*  Compare  Rep.  VI.,  496. 

28  At  the  time  of  Socrates,  Attica,  the  Athenian  State,  was  divided  into  ten 
tribes.  The  senate  consisted  of  five  hundred  members,  chosen  by  lot,  fifty 
from  each  tribe.  "  Its  sittings  became  constant,  with  the  exception  of  special 
holidays.  The  year  was  distributed  into  ten  portions  called  Prytanies— the 
fifty  senators  of  each  tribe  taking  by  turns  the  duty  of  constant  attendance 
during  one  prytany,  and  receiving  during  that  time  the  title  of  The  Prytanes 
(pryt'a-nez).  ...  A  further  subdivision  of  the  prytany  into  five  periods 
of  seven  days  each,  and  of  the  fifty  tribe  senators  into  five  bodies  of  ten 


APOLOGY  19 

tribe,  had  the  presidency  at  the  trial  of  the  generals  who  had  not 
taken  up  the  bodies  of  the  slain  after  the  battle  of  Arginusae ; co 
and  you  proposed  to  try  them  all  together,  which  was  illegal,  as 
you  all  thought  afterwards  j  but  at  the  time  I  was  the  only  one 
of  the  prytanes  who  was  opposed  to  the  illegality,  and  I  gave 
my  vote  against  you  ;  and  when  the  orators  threatened  to  im- 
peach and  arrest  me,  and  have  me  taken  away,  and  you  called 
and  shouted,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  run  the  risk, 
having  law  and  justice  with  me,  rather  than  take  part  in  your 
injustice  because  I  feared  imprisonment  and  death.  This 
happened  in  the  days  of  the  democracy.  But  when  the  oli- 
garchy of  the  Thirty 31  was  in  power,  they  sent  for  me  and  four 
others  into  the  rotunda,32  and  bade  us  bring  Leon  the  Salami  n- 
ian  from  Salamis,33  as  they  wanted  to  execute  him.  This  was 
a  specimen  of  the  sort  of  commands  which  they  were  al- 
ways giving  with  the  view  of  implicating  as  many  as  possible 
in  their  crimes  ;  and  then  I  showed,  not  in  word  only  but  in 
deed,  that,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  use  such  an  expression  ~lS/^l^ 
cared  not  a  straw  for  death,  and  that  my  only  fear  was  the  fear  u 

of  doing  an  unrighteous  or  unholy  thing."  For  the  strong  arm 
of  that  oppressive  power  did  not  frighten  me  into  doing  wrong; 

each,  was  recognized.  Each  body  of  ten  presided  in  the  senate  for  one  period 
of  seven  days,  drawing  lots  every  day  among  their  number  for  a  new  chair- 
man."— Grote's  History  of  Greece,  chap.  xxxi. 

Part  of  the  business  of  the  senate  was  to  prepare  resolutions  to  be  laid  be- 
fore the  general  assembly  of  all  the  citizens,  which,  in  cases  like  the  one  re- 
ferred to  by  Socrates,  had,  with  the  senate,  the  power  of  final  decision. 

30  Arginusae  (ar'ji-nu'se) :  a  naval  battle  of  the  Poloponnesian  War,  occur- 
ring in  406  B.C.  Although  victorious,  the  Athenian  generals  left  their  dead 
unburied  and  abandoned  the  living  on  the  wrecked  vessels.  This  neglect 
and  cruelty  aroused  great  indignation  at  Athens.  The  generals  were  illegally 
tried,  condemned  and  executed. 

"  So  intimidated  were  the  Prytanes  by  the  incensed  manifestations  of  the 
assembly  that  all  of  them,  except  one,  relinquished  their  opposition  and 
agreed  to  put  the  question  "  [as  to  the  guilt  and  condemnation  of  the  generals 
in  a  body].  The  single  obstinate  Prytanis,  whose  refusal  no  menace  could 
subdue,  was  a  man  whose  name  we  read  with  peculiar  interest,  and  in  whom 
an  impregnable  adherence  to  law  and  duty  was  only  one  among  many  other 
titles  to  reverence.  It  was  the  philosopher  Socrates  ;  on  this  trying  occasion, 
once  throughout  a  life  of  seventy  years,  discharging  a  political  office,  among 
the  fifty  senators  taken  by  lot  from  the  tribe  Antiochus.  Socrates  could  not 
be  induced  to  withdraw  his  protest,  so  that  the  question  was  ultimately  put 
by  the  remaining  Prytanes  without  his  concurrence."— Grote's  History  of 
Greece  III.,  chap.  lxiv. 

31  See  Apology,  note  14. 

32  The  office  of  the  Prytanes  at  the  Prytaneum  (pryt'a-ne'um)  where  they 
also  dined  at  public  cost.     See  Apology,  note  43. 

33  Salamis  (saTa-mis):  an  island  of  the  ALgean,  near  Athens. 


20  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

and  when  we  came  out  of  the  rotunda  the  other  four  went  to 
Salamis  and  fetched  Leon,  but  I  went  quietly  home.  For 
which  I  might  have  lost  my  life,  had  not  the  power  of  the 
Thirty  shortly  afterwards  come  to  an  end.  And  to  this  many 
will  witness. 

Now  do  you  really  imagine  that  I  could  have  survived  all 
these  years,  if  I  had  led  a  public  life,  supposing  that  like  a  good 
man  I  had  always  supported  the  right  and  had  made  justice,  as 
I  ought,  the  first  thing  ?  No  indeed,  men  of  Athens,  neither  I 
nor  any  other.  But  I  have  been  always  the  same  in  all 
my  actions,  public  as  well  as  private,  and  never  have  I 
yielded  any  base  compliance  to  those  who  are  slanderously 
termed  my  disciples,34  or  to  any  other.  For  the  truth  is  that  I 
have  no  regular  disciples :  but  if  any  one  likes  to  come  and 
hear  me  while  I  am  pursuing  my  mission,  whether  he  be  young 
or  old,  he  may  freely  come.  Nor  do  I  converse  with  those  who 
pay  only,  and  not  with  those  who  do  not  pay  ;  but  any  one, 
whether  he  be  rich  or  poor,  may  ask  and  answer  me  and  listen 
to  my  words ;  and  whether  he  turns  out  to  be  a  bad  man  or  a 
good  one,  that  cannot  be  justly  laid  to  my  charge,  as  I  never 
taught  him  anything.  And  if  any  one  says  that  he  has  ever 
learned  or  heard  anything  from  me  in  private  which  all  the 
world  has  not  heard,  I  should  like  you  to  know  that  he  is 
speaking  an  untruth. 

But  I  shall  be  asked,  Why  do  people  delight  in  continually 
conversing  with  you?  I  have  told  you  already,  Athenians,  the 
whole  truth  about  this  :  they  like  to  hear  the  cross-examination 
of  the  pretenders  to  wisdom  ;  there  is  amusement  in  this.  And 
this  is  a  duty  which  the  God  has  imposed  upon  me,  as  I  am 
assured  by  oracles,  visions,  and  in  every  sort  of  way  in  which 
the  will  of  divine  power  was  ever  signified  to  any  one.  This  is 
true,  O  Athenians ;  or,  if  not  true,  would  be  soon  refuted. 
For  if  I  am  really  corrupting  the  youth,  and  have  corrupted 
some  of  them  already,  those  of  them  who  have  grown  up  and 
have  become  sensible  that  I  gave  them  bad  advice  in  the  days 
of  their  youth  should  come  forward  as  accusers  and  take  their 
revenge;  and  if  they  do  not  like  to  come  themselves,  some  of 

84  Probably  an  allusion  to  Critias,  the  most  unscrupulous  and  most  hated 
of  the  Thirty  Tyrants,  and  Alcibiades,  a  corrupt  general  and  politician,  both 
of  whom  had  in  youth  associated  with  Socrates,  and  for  whose  evil  doing  he 
was  sometimes  held  responsible.  See  Protagoras,  note  i  ;  Symposium,  212 
and  following. 


APOLOGY  21 

their  relatives,  fathers,  brothers,  or  other  kinsmen,  should  say 
what  evil  their  families  suffered  at  my  hands.  Now  is  their 
time.  Many  of  them  I  see  in  the  court.  There  is  Crito,35  who 
is  of  the  same  age  and  of  the  same  deme36  with  myself;  and 
there  is  Critobulus37  his  son,  whom  I  also  see.  Then  again 
there  is  Lysanias  of  Sphettus,  who  is  the  father  of  yEschines, — 
he  is  present ;  and  also  there  is  Antiphon  of  Cephisus,  who  is 
the  father  of  Epigenes ;  and  there  are  the  brothers  of  several 
who  have  associated  with  me.  There  is  Nicostratus  the  son  of 
Theosdotides,  and  the  brother  of  Theodotus  (now  Theodotus 
himself  is  dead,  and  therefore  he,  at  any  rate,  will  not  seek  to 
stop  him)  ;  and  there  is  Paralus  the  son  of  Demodocus,  who 
had  a  brother  Theages,  and  Adeimantus  the  son  of  Aris- 
ton,  whose  brother  Plato  is  present ;  and  ^Eantodorus,  34 
who  is  the  brother  of  Apollodorus,  whom  I  also  see.  I  might 
mention  a  great  many  others,  any  of  whom  Meletus  should  have 
produced  as  witnesses  in  the  course  of  his  speech  ;  and  let  him 
still  produce  them,  if  he  has  forgotten  j  I  will  make  way  for 
him.  And  let  him  say,  if  he  has  any  testimony  of  the  sort 
which  he  can  produce.  Nay,  Athenians,  the  very  opposite  is 
the  truth.  For  all  these  are  ready  to  witness  on  behalf  of  the 
corrupter,  of  the  destroyer  of  their  kindred,  as  Meletus  and 
Anytus  call  me  ;  not  the  corrupted  youth  only, — there  might 
have  been  a  motive  for  that, — but  their  uncorrupted  elder  rel- 
atives. Why  should  they  too  support  me  with  their  testimony  ? 
Why,  indeed,  except  for  the  sake  of  truth  and  justice,  and  be- 
cause they  know  that  I  am  speaking  the  truth,  and  that  Meletus 
is  lying. 

Well,  Athenians,  this  and  the  like  of  this  is  nearly  all  the 
defense  which  I  have  to  offer.     Yet  a  word  more.     Perhaps 

35  Crito  (kri'to)  :  a  wealthy  Athenian,  the  devoted  friend  and  disciple  of 
Socrates.  He  is  said  to  have  relieved  Socrates  from  the  necessity  of  manual 
labor.  He  offered  Socrates  means  of  escape  from  prison.  He  appears  in 
the  Phaedo.     A  dialogue  of  Plato  bears  his  name. 

36  Each  of  the  ten  tribes  of  Attica  comprised  a  certain  number  of  demes 
(demz)  or  administrative  districts,  something  like  our  townships.  They  were 
named  after  persons  or  places. 

37  Critobulus  (krif  o-bu'lus)  ;  Lysanias  (ly-s^m-as)  ;  Sphettus  (sfet'tus)  ; 
/Eschines  (es'ki-nez)  ;  Antiphon  (an'ti-fon)  ;  Cephisus  (se-fl'sus) ;  Epigenes 
(e-pij'e-nez>  ;  Nicostratus  (ni-cos'tra-tus)  ;  Theosdotides  (the-os'd5-tI'dez) ; 
Theodotus  (the-od'o-tus)  ;  Paralus  (par'a-lus) ;  Demodocus  (de-mSd'o-cus)  ; 
Theages  (the-a'jez) ;  Adeimantus  (2d'i-man'tus)  ;  Ariston  (a-rfs'ton) ;  ^Eanto- 
dorus  (e-an'to-do'rus)  ;  Apollodorus  (a-pol'lo-do'rus).  Of  these  men  ^Eschines 
and  Epigenes  were  present  at  the  death  of  Socrates  ;  See  Phaedo,  59.  Adei- 
mantus appears  in  the  Republic. 


22  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

there  may  be  some  one  who  is  offended  at  me,  when  he  calls  to 
mind  how  he  himself  on  a  similar,  or  even  a  less  serious  occa- 
sion, had  recourse  to  prayers  and  supplications  with  many  tears, 
and  how  he  produced  his  children  in  court,  which  was  a  mov- 
ing spectacle,  together  with  a  posse  of  his  relations  and  friends ; 
whereas  I,  who  am  probably  in  danger  of  my  life,  will  do  none 
of  these  things.  Perhaps  this  may  come  into  his  mind,  and  he 
may  be  set  against  me,  and  vote  in  anger  because  he  is  dis- 
pleased at  this.  Now  if  there  be  such  a  person  among  you, 
which  I  am  far  from  affirming,  I  may  fairly  reply  to  him  :  My 
friend,  I  am  a  man,  and  like  other  men,  a  creature  of  flesh  and 
blood,  and  not  of  wood  or  stone,38  as  Homer  39  says  ;  and  I 
have  a  family,  yes,  and  sons,  O  Athenians,  three  in  number,  one 
of  whom  is  growing  up,  and  the  two  others  are  still  young  j  and 
yet  I  will  not  bring  any  of  them  hither  in  order  to  petition  you 
for  an  acquittal.  And  why  not?  Not  from  any  self-will  or 
disregard  of  you.  Whether  I  am  or  am  not  afraid  of  death  is 
another  question,  of  which  I  will  not  now  speak.  But  my  rea- 
son simply  is,  that  I  feel  such  conduct  to  be  discreditable  to 
myself,  and  you,  and  the  whole  State.  One  who  has  reached 
my  years,  and  who  has  a  name  for  wisdom,  whether  deserved  or 
not,  ought  not  to  demean  himself.  At  any  rate,  the  world  has 
decided  that  Socrates  is  in  some  way  superior  to  other  men. 
And  if  those  among  you  who  are  said  to  be  superior  in 
35  wisdom  and  courage,  and  any  other  virtue,  demean  them- 
selves in  this  way,  how  shameful  is  their  conduct !  I  have  seen 
men  of  reputation,  when  they  have  been  condemned,  behaving 
in  the  strangest  manner :  they  seemed  to  fancy  that  they  were 
going  to  surfer  something  dreadful  if  they  died,  and  that  they 
could  be  immortal  if  you  only  allowed  them  to  live  j  and  I 
think  that  they  were  a  dishonor  to  the  State,  and  that  any 
stranger  coming  in  would  say  of  them  that  the  most  eminent 
men  of  Athens,  to  whom  the  Athenians  themselves  give  honor 
and  command,  are  no  better  than  women.  And  I  say  that 
these  things  ought  not  to  be  done  by  those  of  us  who  are  of 

38  Now,  I  pray,  declare 

Thy  lineage,  for  thou  surely  art  not  sprung 
From  the  old  fabulous  oak,  nor  from  a  rock. 

— Bryant's  Odyssey,  xix.  201. 
39  The  earliest  poet  whose  works  were  known  to  the  Greeks  of  this  period. 
To  him  was  attributed  the  authorship  of  many  poems,  among  them  the  Iliad 
and  the  Odyssey.     We  have  no  authentic  information  about  him.     His  date 
was  probably  between  1000  and  850  b.  c. 


APOLOGY  23 

reputation ;  and  if  they  are  done,  you  ought  not  to  permit 
them  ;  you  ought  rather  to  show  that  you  are  more  inclined  to 
condemn,  not  the  man  who  is  quiet,  but  the  man  who  gets  up 
a  doleful  scene,  and  makes  the  city  ridiculous. 

But,  setting  aside  the  question  of  disbpnoc,  there  seems  to  be 
something  wrong  in  r^titlo^iyn^a^ggei^and  thus  procuring 
an  acquittal  instead  of  injcHiniiig_jmd  corrvln^^  For 

his  duty,  is,  not  to  make  a  preljn^of^ustfceV  but  to  give 
B|Orjjffiynd  he  has  sworn  that  he  will  judgeaccording  to 
ttfe_ laws/tnd  not  according  to  his  oj^2go63JpIe|sure ;  and 
neither  he  nor  we  should  get  into  the  habit  of  perjuring  our- 
selves— there  can  be  no  piety  in  that.  Do  not  then  require 
me  to  do  what  I  consider  dishonorable  and  impious  and 
wrong,  especially  now,  when  I  am  being  tried  for  impiety  on 
the  indictment  of  Meletus.  For  if,  O  men  of  Athens,  by 
force  of  persuasion  and  entreaty,  I  could  overpower  your 
oaths,  then  I  should  be  teaching  you  to  believe  that  there 
are  no  gods,  and  convict  myself,  in  my  own  defense,  of  not  be- 
lieving in  them.  But  that  is  not  the  case ;  for  I  do  believe 
that  there  are  gods,  and  in  a  far  higher  sense  than  that  in 
which  any  of  my  accusers  believe  in  them.  And  to  you  and 
to  God  I  commit  my  cause,  to  be  determined  by  you  as  is 
best  for  vou  and  me. 


There  are  many  reasons  why  I  am  not  grieved,  O  men  of 
Athens,  at  the  vote  of  condemnation.  I  expected  this,  , 
and  am  only  surprised  that  the  votes  are  so  nearly  equal ; 
for  I  had  thought  that  the  majority  against  me  wrould  have  been 
far  larger ;  but  now,  had  thirty  votes 40  gone  over  to  the  other 
side,  I  should  have  been  acquitted.  And  I  may  say  that  I 
have  escaped  Meletus.  And  I  may  say  more  ;  for  without  the 
assistance  of  Anytus  and  Lycon,  he  would  not  have  had  a  fifth 
part  of  the  votes,  as  the  law  requires,  in  which  case  he  would 
have  incurred  a  fine  of  a  thousand  drachmae,41  as  is  evident. 

And  so  he  proposes  death  as  the  penalty.     And  what  shall 
I  propose  on  my  part,42  O  men  of  Athens?     Clearly  that 

40  Socrates  was  probably  not  speaking  exactly,  but  in  round  numbers. 

a  Drachma  (drak'ma) ;  pi.  Drachmae  (drak'me)  or  Drachmas  (drak'maz)  : 
one  drachma  was  the  hundredth  part  of  a  mina.     See  Apology,  note  10. 

43  "  In  Athenian  procedure,  the  penalty  inflicted  was  determined  by  a 
separate  vote  of  the  Dikasts  "  (officers  somewhat  like  our  jurymen)  "  taken 
after  the  verdict  of  guilty.     The  accuser  having  named  the  penalty  which  he 


24  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

which  is  my  due.  And  what  is  that  which  I  ought  to  pay  or 
to  receive?  What  shall  be  done  to  the  man  who  has  never 
had  the  wit  to  be  idle  during  his  whole  life ;  but  has  been 
earless  of  what  the  many  care  about — wealth,  and  family  in- 
terests, and  military  offices,  and  speaking  in  the  assembly,  and 
magistracies,  and  plots,  and  parties.  Reflecting  that  I  was 
really  too  honest  a  man  to  follow  in  this  way  and  live,  I  did 
not  go  where  I  could  do  no  good  to  you  or  to  myself;  but  where 
I  could  do  the  greatest  good  privately  to  every  one  of  you, 
thither  I  went,  and  sought  to  persuade  every  man  among  you, 
that  he  must  look  to  himself,  and  seek  virtue  and  wisdom  be- 
fore he  looks  to  his  private  interests,  and  look  to  the  State 
before  he  looks  to  the  interests  of  the  State  ;  and  that  this 
should  be  the  order  which  he  observes  in  all  his  actions. 
What  shall  be  done  to  such  a  one  ?  Doubtless  some  good 
thing,  O  men  of  Athens,  if  he  has  his  reward  ;  and  the  good 
should  be  of  a  kind  suitable  to  him.  What  would  be  a  re- 
ward suitable  to  a  poor  man  who  is  your  benefactor,  who  de- 
sires leisure  that  he  may  instruct  you?  There  can  be  no 
more  fitting  reward  than  maintenence  in  the  prytaneum,43 
O  men  of  Athens,  a  reward  which  he  deserves  far  more  than 
the  citizen  who  has  won  the  prize  at  Olympia  u  in  the  horse 
or  chariot  race,  whether  the  chariots  were  drawn  by  two 
horses  or  by  many.  For  I  am  in  want,  and  he  has  enough ; 
and  he  only  gives  you  the  appearance  of  happiness,  and  I 
give  you  the  reality.  And  if  I  am  to  estimate  the  penalty 
_  justly,  I  say  that  maintenance  in  the  prytaneum  is  the 
just  return. 
Perhaps  you  may  think   that  I  am   braving  you   in  saying 

thought  suitable,  the  accused  party  on  his  side  named  some  lighter  penalty 
upon  himself ;  and  between  these  two  the  Dikasts  were  called  on  to  make  their 
option— no  third  proposition  being  admissible.  The  prudence  of  an  accused 
party  always  induced  him  to  propose,  even  against  himself,  some  measure 
of  punishment  which  the  Dikasts  might  be  satisfied  to  accept,  in  preference 
to  the  heavier  sentence  invoked  by  his  antagonist." — Grote's  History  of 
Greece  III.,  chap  Ixviii. 

43  Pryt'-a-ne'uin  :  a  public  building  in  Greek  cities.  At  Athens  entertain- 
ment was  furnished  in  the  Prytaneum  at  public  cost  to  foreign  ambassadors 
and  to  citizens  whom  the  State  wished  to  honor. 

44  A  small  plain  in  Elis  (e'lfs)  near  the  southwestern  coast  of  Greece  where, 
every  four  years,  the  chief  national  festival  of  the  Greeks  was  celebrated  in 
honor  of  Zeus.  An  important  part  of  the  festival  was  the  Olympian  Games 
— contests  in  wrestling,  boxing,  leaping,  spear  and  quoit-throwing,  and 
races  of  various  kinds.  The  winners  were  publicly  honored  in  many  ways 
and  received  undying  fame. 


APOLOGY 


25 


this,  as  in  what  I  said  before  about  the  tears  and  prayer.  But 
that  is  not  the  case.  I  speak  rather  because  I  am  convinced 
that  I  never  intentionally  wronged  any  one,  although  I  can- 
not convince  you  of  that — for  we  have  had  a  short  conversa- 
tion only ;  but  if  there  were  a  law  at  Athens,  such  as  there  is 
in  other  cities,  that  a  capital  cause  should  not  be  decided  in 
one  day,  then  I  believe  I  should  have  convinced  you  j  but 
now  the  time  is  too  short.  I  cannot  in  a  moment  refute  great 
slanders;  and,  as  I  am  convinced  that  I  never  wronged  an- 
other, I  will  assuredly  not  wrong  myself.  I  will  not  say  of 
myself  that  I  deserve  any  evil,  or  propose  any  penalty.  Why 
should  I.  Because  I  am  afraid  of  the  penalty  of  death  which 
Meletus  proposes?  When  I  do  not  know  whether  death  is  a 
good  or  an  evil,  why  should  I  propose  a  penalty  which  would 
certainly  be  an  evil?  Shall  I  say  imprisonment?  And  why 
should  I  live  in  prison,  and  be  the  slave  of  the  magistrates  of 
the  year — of  the  eleven  ?45  Or  shall  the  penalty  be  a  fine, 
and  imprisonment  until  the  fine  is  paid?  There  is  the  same 
objection.  I  should  have  to  lie  in  prison,  for  money  I 
have  none,  and  cannot  pay.  And  if  I  say  exile  (and  this 
may  possibly  be  the  penalty  which  you  will  affix),  I  must 
indeed  be  blinded  by  the  love  of  life,  if  I  were  to  consider 
that  when  you,  who  are  my  own  citizens,  cannot  endure 
my  discourses  and  words,  and  have  found  them  so  grievous 
and  odious  that  you  would  fain  have  done  with  them,  others 
are  likely  to  endure  me.  No  indeed,  men  of  Athens,  that 
is  not  very  likely.  And  what  a  life  should  I  lead,  at  my 
age,  wandering  from  city  to  city,  living  in  ever-changing 
exile,  and  always  being  driven  out  !  For  I  am  quite  sure 
that  into  whatever  place  I  go,  as  here  so  also  there,  the 
young  men  will  come  to  me  ;  and  if  I  drive  them  away, 
their  elders  will  drive  me  out  at  their  desire  :  and  if  I  let 
them  come,  their  fathers  and  friends  will  drive  me  out  for 
their  sakes. 

Some  one  will  say :  Yes,  Socrates,  but  cannot  you  hold 
your  tongue,  and  then  you  may  go  into  a  foreign  city,  and 
no  one  will  interfere  with  you?  Now  I  have  great  difficulty 
in  making  you  understand  my  answer  to  this.  *For  if  I  tell 

45  Police  commissioners  at  Athens  who  had  charge  of  the  prisons  and  the 
punishment  of  criminals.  Each  tribe  furnished  one  member  by  lot  and  the 
eleventh  was  a  scribe. 


26  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

v"v^5&£<jl»  y°u  that  this  would  be  a  disobedience  to  a  divine  command, 
"  'and  therefore  that  I  cannot  hold  my  tongue,  you  will  not 
s  believe  that  I  am  serious  ;  and  if  I  say  again  that  the 
greatest  good  of  man  is  daily  to  converse  about  virtue, 
and  all  that  concerning  which  you  hear  me  examining  myself 
and  others,  and  that  the  life  which  is  unexamined  is  not 
worth  living — that  you  are  still  less  likely  to  believe?  And 
yet  what  I  say  is  true,  although  a  thing  of  which  it  is  hard  for 
me  to  persuade  you.  Moreover,  I  am  not  accustomed  to  think 
that  I  deserve  any  punishment.  Had  I  money  I  might  have 
proposed  to  give  you  what  I  had,  and  have  been  none  the 
worse.  But  you  see  that  I  have  none,  and  can  only  ask  you 
to  proportion  the  fine  to  my  means.  However,  I  think  that 
I  could  afford  a  mina,  and  therefore  I  propose  that  penalty : 
Plato,  Crito,  Critobulus,  and  Apollodorus,  my  friends  here, 
bid  me  say  thirty  minae,  and  they  will  be  the  sureties.  Well, 
then,  say  thirty  minae,  let  that  be  the  penalty ;  for  that  they 
will  be  ample  security  to  you. 

Not  much  time  will  be  gained,  O  Athenians,  in  return  for 
the  evil  name  which  you  will  get  from  the  detractors  of  the 
city,  who  will  say  that  you  killed  Socrates,  a  wise  man  ;  for 
they  will  call  me  wise  even  although  I  am  not  wise  when  they 
want  to  reproach  you.  If  you  had  waited  a  little  while,  your 
desire  would  have  been  fulfilled  in  the  course  of  nature.  For 
I  am  far  advanced  in  years,  as  you  may  perceive,  and  not  far 
from  death.  I  am  speaking  now  only  to  those  of  you  who 
have  condemned  me  to  death.  And  I  have  another  thing  to 
say  to  them  :  You  think  that  I  was  convicted  through  defi- 
ciency of  words — I  mean,  that  if  I  had  thought  fit  to  leave 
nothing  undone,  nothing  unsaid,  I  might  have  gained  an  ac- 
quittal. Not  so;  the  deficiency  which  led  to  my  conviction 
was  not  of  words — certainly  not.  But  I  had  not  the  boldness 
or  impudence  or  inclination  to  address  you  as  you  would  have 
liked  me  to  address  you,  weeping  and  wailing  and  lamenting, 
and  saying  and  doing  many  things  which  you  have  been  ac- 
customed to  hear  from  others  and  which,  as  I  say,  are  un- 
worthy of  me.  But  I  thought  that  I  ought  not  to  do  anything 
common  or  mean  in  the  hour  of  danger  :  nor  do  I  now 
repent  of  the  manner  of  my  defense,  and  I  would  rather 
die  having  spoken  after  my  manner,  than  speak  in  your  manner 
and  live.     For  neither  in  war  nor  yet  at  law  ought  any  man 


APOLOGY  27 

to  use  every  way  of  escaping  death.  For  often  in  battle  there 
is  no  doubt  that  if  a  man  will  throw  away  his  arms,  and  fall 
on  his  knees  before  his  pursuers,  he  may  escape  death ;  and 
in  other  dangers  there  are  other  ways  of  escaping  death,  if  a 
man  is  willing  to  say  and  do  anything.  The  difficulty,  my 
friends,  is  not  in  avoiding  death,  but  in  avoiding  unrighteous 
ness ;  for  that  runs  faster  than  death.  I  am  old  and  move 
slowly,  and  the  slower  runner  has  overtaken  me,  and  my  ac- 
cusers are  keen  and  quick,  and  the  faster  runner,  who  is  un- 
righteousness, has  overtaken  them.  And  now  I  depart  hence 
condemned  by  you  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  death,  and  they, 
too  go  their  ways  condemned  by  the  truth  to  suffer  the  penalty/ 
of  villainy  and  wrong  j  and  I  must  abide  by  my  award — let/ 
them  abide  by  theirs.  I  suppose  that  these  things  may  be  re- 
garded as  fated, — and  I  think  that  they  are  well. 

And  now,  O  men  who  have  condemned  me,  I  would  fain 
prophesy  to  you ;  for  I  am  about  to  die,  and  that  is  the  hour 
in  which  men  are  gifted  with  prophetic  power.46  And  I  pro- 
phesy to  you  who  are  my  murderers,  that  immediately  after 
my  death  punishment  far  heavier  than  you  have  inflicted  on 
me  will  surely  await  you.  Me  you  have  killed  because  you 
wanted  to  escape  the  accuser,  and  not  to  give  an  account  of 
your  lives.  But  that  will  not  be  as  you  suppose :  far  other- 
wise. For  I  say  that  there  will  be  more  accusers  of  you  than 
there  are  now ;  accusers  whom  hitherto  I  have  restrained :  and 
as  they  are  younger  they  will  be  more  severe  with  you,  and 
you  will  be  more  offended  at  them.  For  if  you  think  that  by 
killing  men  you  can  avoid  the  accuser  censuring  your  lives, 
you  are  mistaken  ;  that  is  not  a  way  of  escape  which  is  either 
possible  or  honorable  ;  the  easiest  and  the  noblest  way  is  not 
to  be  crushing  others,  but  to  be  improving  yourselves.  This 
is  the  prophecy  which  I  utter  before  my  departure  to  the 
judges  who  have  condemned  me. 

Friends,  who  would  have  acquitted  me,  I  would  like  also 
to  talk  with  you  about  this  thing  which  has  happened,  while 
the  magistrates  are  busy,  and  before  I  go  to  the  place  at  which 
I  must  die.  Stay  then  a  while,  for  we  may  as  well  talk  with 
one  another  while  there  is  time.  You  are  my  friends, 
and  I  should  like  to  show  you  the  meaning  of  this  event 
which  has  happened  to  me.     O  my  judges — for  you  I  may 

«6  Compare  Phasdo,  84-85. 


28  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

truly  call  judges — I  should  like  to  tell  you  of  a  wonderful  cir- 
cumstance. Hitherto  the  familiar  oracle47  within  me  has 
constantly  been  in  the  habit  of  opposing  me  even  about 
trifles,  if  I  was  going  to  make  a  slip  or  error  about  anything  ; 
and  now  as  you  see  there  has  come  upon  me  that  which  may 
be  thought,  and  is  generally  believed  to  be,  the  last  and 
worst  evil.  But  the  oracle  made  no  sign  of  opposition,  either 
as  I  was  leaving  my  house  and  going  out  in  the  morning,  or 
when  I  was  going  up  into  this  court,  or  while  I  was  speaking, 
at  anything  which  I  was  going  to  say ;  and  yet  I  have  often 
been  stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  speech,  but  now  in  nothing  I 
either  said  or  did  touching  this  matter  has  the  oracle  opposed 
me.  What  do  I  take  to  be  the  explanation  of  this  ?  I  will 
tell  you.  I  regard  this  as  a  proof  that  what  has  happened  to 
me  is  a  good,  and  that  those  of  us  who  think  that  death  is  an 
evil  are  in  error.  This  is  a  great  proof  to  me  of  what  I  am 
saying,  for  the  customary  sign  would  surely  have  opposed  me 
had  I  been  going  to  evil  and  not  to  good. 

Let  us  reflect  in  another  way,  and  we  shall  see  that  there  is 
great  reason  to  hope  that  death  is  a  good,  for  one  of  two 
things  :  either  death  is  a  state  of  nothingness  and  utter  un- 
consciousness, or,  as  men  say,  there  is  a  change  and  migra- 
tion of  the  soul  from  this  world  to  another.  Now  if  you  sup- 
pose that  there  is  no  consciousness,  but  a  sleep  like  the  sleep 
of  him  who  is  undisturbed  even  by  the  sight  of  dreams,  death 
will  be  an  unspeakable  gain.  For  if  a  person  were  to  select 
the  night  in  which  his  sleep  was  undisturbed  even  by  dreams, 
and  were  to  compare  with  this  the  other  days  and  nights  of 
his  life,  and  then  were  to  tell  us  how  many  days  and  nights 
he  had  passed  in  the  course  of  his  life  better  and  more  pleas- 
antly than  this  one,  I  think  that  any  man,  I  will  not  say  a 
private  man,  but  even  the  great  king48  will  not  find  many  such 
days  or  nights,  when  compared  with  the  others.  Now  if 
death  is  like  this,  I  say  that  to  die  is  gain  ;  for  eternity  is  then 
only  a  single  night.  But  if  death  is  the  journey  to  another 
place,  and  there,  as  men  say,  all  the  dead  are,  what  good,  O 
my  friends  and  judges,  can  be  greater  than  this  ?  If  in- 
deed when  the  pilgrim  arrives  in  the  world  below,  he  is 
delivered  from  the  professors  of  justice  in  this  world,  and  finds 
the  true  judges  who  are  said  to  give  judgment  there,  Minos 
*7  Compare  Apology,  31.  **  The  king  of  Persia. 


APOLOGY  29 

and  Rhadamanthus  and  ^Eacus49and  Triptolemus,50  and  other 
sons  of  God  who  were  righteous  in  their  own  life,  that  pil- 
grimage will  be  worth  making.  What  would  not  a  man  give 
if  he  might  converse  with  Orpheus 51  and  Musaeus  52  and  He- 
siod  ^  and  Homer 54  ?  Nay,  if  this  be  true,  let  me  die  again 
and  again.  I,  too,  shall  have  a  wonderful  interest  in  a  place 
where  I  can  converse  with  Palamedes,55  and  Ajax  56  the  son  of 
Telamon,  and  other  heroes  of  old,  who  have  suffered  death 
through  an  unjust  judgment ;  and  there  will  be  no  small  pleas- 
ure, as  I  think,  in  comparing  my  own  sufferings  with  theirs 
Above  all,  I  shall  be  able  to  continue  my  search  into  true  an 
false  knowledge  ;  as  in  this  world,  so  also  in  that ;  I  shall  find 
out  who  is  wise,  and  who  pretends  to  be  wise,  and  is  not 
What  would  not  a  inan  give,  O  judges,  to  be  able  to  examine 
the  leader  of  the  great  Trojan  expedi  tion  5? ;  or  Odysseus  ■  or 
Sisyphus,59  or  numberless  others,  men  and  women  too  !  What 
infinite  delight  would  there  be  in  conversing  with  them  and 
asking  them  questions  !     For  in  that  world  they  do  not  put  a 

49  In  the  Gorgias,  another  of  Plato's  dialogues,  Socrates  relates  the  follow- 
ing myth.  There  was  of  old  a  law  that  the  just  and  holy  man  should  go 
after  death  to  the  Islands  of  the  Blest,  but  the  wicked  man  should  go  to 
Tartarus,  the  house  of  punishment.  Now,  it  often  happened  that  a  soul 
went  to  the  wrong  place  after  death.  This  was  because  judgment  had  been 
passed  before  death,  when  the  material  bodies  and  garments  of  the  judges 
and  the  judged  formed  a  double  veil,  which  prevented  clear  vision  and  cor- 
rect judgment.  As  a  remedy  Zeus  appointed  his  three  sons,  ^Eacus  (e'a- 
cus),  Minos  (ml'nos),  and  Rhadamanthus  (rad'a-man'thus),  to  become 
after  death  judges  in  the  world  below,  where  with  naked  souls  they  could 
pierce  the  naked  souls  of  the  dead,  and  the  judgment  would  be  just. 

50  Triptolemus  (tnp-toTe-mus):  a  legendary  character  noted  for  his  piety 
and  beneficence. 

51  Orpheus  (6r'fe-us):  a  celebrated  mythical  poet  and  musician.  See  Pro- 
tagoras, note  28. 

52  Musaeus  (mu-se-us):  a  mythological  musician,  seer,  and  priest.  See 
Protagoras,  note  28. 

53  Hesiod  (he'si-od):  a  celebrated  Greek  poet,  almost,  if  not  quite,  as  an- 
cient as  Homer.     Many  works  attributed  to  him  are  extant. 

54  See  Apology,  note  39. 

55  Palamedes  (pal'a-me'dez):  a  Greek  hero  of  the  Trojan  War,  noted  for 
his  wisdom  and  ingenuity.  The  Greeks  attributed  many  inventions  to 
him. 

56  Ajax  [a'jax,  son  of  Telamon  (tel'a-mon)]:  a  Greek  hero  of  surpassing 
strength  and  stature,  second  only  to  Achilles  in  bravery  at  the  siege  of 
Troy. 

57  See  Apology,  note  21. 

58  Odysseus  (5-dys'sus):  one  of  the  most  illustrious  Greek  heroes  of  the 
Trojan  War,  noted  for  his  courage  and  cunning.  The  adventures  of  his 
twenty  years  of  wandering  on  his  return  from  Troy  are  related  in  Homer's 
Odyssey.  . 

6tt  Sisyphus  (sisT-fus),  the  legendary  builder  and  King  of  Corinth. 


30  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

man  to  death  for  this  j  certainly  not.  For  besides  being  hap* 
pier  in  that  world  than  in  this,  they  will  be  immortal,  if  what 
is  said  is  true. 

Wherefore,  O  judges,  be  of  good  cheer  about  death,  and 
know  this  of  a  truth — that  no  evil  can  happen  to  a  good  man, 
either  in  life  or  after  death.  He  and  his  are  not  neglected  by 
the  gods ;  nor  has  my  own  approaching  end  happened  by 
mere  chance.  But  I  see  clearly  that  to  die  and  be  released 
was  better  for  me ;  and  therefore  the  oracle  gave  no  sign. 
For  which  reason,  also,  I  am  not  angry  with  my  accusers  or 
my  condemners ;  they  have  done  me  no  harm,  although 
neither  of  them  meant  to  do  me  any  good  ;  and  for  this  I  may 
gently  blame  them. 

Still  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  them.  When  my  sons  are 
grown  up,  I  would  ask  you,  O  my  friends,  to  punish  them  ; 
and  I  would  have  you  trouble  them,  as  I  have  troubled  you, 
if  they  seem  to  care  about  riches,  or  anything,  more  than 
about  virtue ;  or  if  they  pretend  to  be  something  when  they 
are  really  nothing, — then  reprove  them,  as  I  have  reproved 
you,  for  not  caring  about  that  for  which  they  ought  to  care, 
and  thinking  that  they  are  something  when  they  are  really 
nothing.60  And  if  you  do  this,  I  and  my  sons  will  have 
received  justice  at  your  hands. 

The  hour  of  departure  has  arrived,  and  we  go  our  ways — I 
to  die,  and  you  to  live.     Which  is  better  God  only  knows. 

6o  •«  por  jf  a  man  think  himself  to  be  something  when  he  is  nothing,  he  de- 
ceiveth  himself.  "—Gal.,  vi.  3. 


EUTHYDEMUS 


INTRODUCTION 

The  Euthydemus  is  a  farce — with  a  purpose.  The  clew  to 
the  purpose  is  found  in  the  conversation  between  Socrates 
and  Crito  at  the  close  of  the  dialogue.  Crito  was  a  well-to- 
do  Athenian  citizen  and  a  warm  personal  friend  of  Socrates. 
As  a  citizen,  business  man,  and  father,  he  had  the  interests 
and  was  naturally  inclined  to  share  the  average  opinions  of 
his  fellow-citizens.  Like  other  Athenians,  he  was  accordingly 
inclined  to  distrust  the  new  breed  of  men  called  Sophists, 
who  were  turning  the  world  upside  down  with  their  teach- 
ings. He  knew  and  loved  and  trusted  Socrates,  and  did  not 
therefore  confuse  him  with  the  Sophists ;  but  he  saw  that 
others  did  so,  and  partly  for  fear  on  Socrates'  account, 
partly  for  fear  that  his  sons  would  be  misled  and  corrupted 
by  the  new  learning,  he  came  to  Socrates  with  anxious  ques- 
tions and  warnings. 

The  dialogue  Euthydemus  is  intended  to  show  the  differ- 
ence between  Socrates  and  the  Sophists  in  such  a  way  that  a 
wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  should  not  confuse  them. 
The  Sophists  have  nothing  real  to  teach, — believe  in  nothing 
real  to  teach ;  Socrates  believes  unvaryingly  in  the  reality  and 
power  of  the  truth.  Their  art  is  word  trickery ;  the  art  of 
Socrates  is  step-by-step  approach  to  the  truth.  Their  pur- 
pose is  to  get  the  boy's  money ;  Socrates  will  take  no  money, 
but  wants  to  save  the  boy's  life.   In  spite  of  these  differences, 

3  33 


34  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Grote  is  doubtless  right  in  saying  that  if  you  had  asked  an 
Athenian  citizen  of  that  time  to  name  one  or  two  Sophists, 
he  would  probably  have  replied,  Socrates  and  Plato,  so  hard 
it  is  to  make  the  public  discriminate. 

There  is  a  deep  pathos  in  Crito's  bewilderment  about  what 
to  do  with  his  sons.  Shall  he  bring  them  up  as  money- 
makers, ignorant  of  divine  philosophy?  Shall  he  commit 
them  to  some  of  the  teachers  of  the  new  learning  ?  What 
shall  he  do  with  them  ?  The  philosophy  of  Socrates  is  there 
face  to  face  with  a  real  question,  not  to  be  evaded.  Socrates 
did  not  hesitate  to  reply. 


EUTHYDEMUS-i^z^^e^fe^ 

"inncTTc  W       ww 


PERSONS  OR  THE 


luthv 

DlONYSODORUS. 

Ctesippus. 


Cleinias. 


Scene: — The  Lyceum.3 

Crito.  Who  was  the  person,  Socrates,  with  whom  you 
were  talking  yesterday  at  the  Lyceum  ?  There  was  such  a 
crowd  around  you  that  I  could  not  get  within  hearing,  but  I 
caught  sight  of  him  over  their  heads,  and  I  made  out,  as  I 
thought,  that  he  was  a  stranger  with  whom  you  were  talking : 
who  was  he  ? 

Socrates.  There  were  two,  Crito ;  which  of  them  do  you 
mean  ? 

Cri.  The  one  who  was  seated  second  from  you  on  the 
right-hand  side.  In  the  middle  was  Cleinias,  the  young  son  of 
Axiochus,  who  has  wonderfully  grown ;  he  is  only  about  the 
age  of  my  own  Critobulus,3  but  he  is  much  forwarder  and  very 
good-looking  :   the  other  is  thin  and  looks  younger  than  he  is. 

1  Crito:  see  Apology,  note  35  ;  Euthydemus  (u'thy-de'mus)  and  Dionyso- 
dorus  (dl'o-nys'-o-do'rus)  :  probably  merely  dramatic  characters.  '*  That 
they  correspond  to  any  actual  persons  at  Athens,  is  neither  proved  nor  prob- 
able." Grote's  Plato  I.,  p.  536.  Ctesippus  (te-sfp'pus) :  the  principal  knowl- 
edge we  have  of  this  young  man  is  gained  from  this  dialogue.  He  was  pres- 
ent at  the  death  of  Socrates,  Phaedos9.  Cleinias  (klP  nf-as),  son  of  Axiochus 
(ax-I'o-kus),  not  mentioned  elsewhere  in  Plato. 

2  An  enclosure  dedicated  to  Apollo  just  east  of  Athens,  outside  the  gate. 
It  was  decorated  with  fountains,  buildings,  and  covered  walks.  It  became 
the  largest  of  the  three  great  gymnasia  of  ancient  Athens.  It  was  frequented 
by  philosophers  and  others  as  a  place  for  retirement  and  study. 

3  See  Apology  33. 

35 


36  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Soc.  He  whom  you  mean,  Crito,  is  Euthydemus ;  and  on 
my  left  hand  there  was  his  brother  Dionysodorus,  who  also 
took  part  in  the  conversation. 

Cri.  Neither  of  them  are  known  to  me,  Socrates  ;  they  are 
a  new  importation  of  Sophists,  as  I  should  imagine.  Of  what 
country  are  they,  and  what  is  their  line  of  wisdom  ? 

Soc.  As  to  their  origin,  I  believe  that  they  are  natives  of 
this  part  of  the  world,  and  have  migrated  from  Chios  to  Thurii,4 
they  were  driven  out  of  Thurii,  and  have  been  living  for  many 
years  past  in  this  region.  As  to  their  wisdom,  about  which 
you  ask,  Crito,  they  are  wonderful  —  consummate!  I  never 
knew  what  the  true  pancratiast5  was  before;  they  are  simply 
made  up  of  fighting,  not  like  the  two  Acarnanian  brothers 6  who 
fight  with  their  bodies  only,  but  this  pair  are  perfect  in  the  use 
of  their  bodies  and  have  a  universal  mode  of  fighting  (for  they 
are  capital  at  fighting  in  armor,  and  will  teach  the  art  to 
any  one  who  pays  them) :  and  also  they  are  masters  of 
legal  fence,  and  are  ready  to  do  battle  in  the  courts;  they  will 
give  lessons  in  speaking  and  pleading,  and  in  writing  speeches. 
And  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  their  wisdom,  but  they  have 
at  last  carried  out  the  pancrastiastic  art  to  the  very  end,  and 
have  mastered  the  only  mode  of  fighting  which  had  been  hither- 
to neglected  by  them;  and  now  no  one  dares  look  at  them ;  such 
is  their  skill  in  the  war  of  words,  that  they  can  refute  any 
proposition  whether  true  or  false.  Now  I  am  thinking,  Crito, 
of  putting  myself  in  their  hands;  for  they  say  that  in  a  short 
time  they  can  impart  their  skill  to  any  one. 

Cri.  But,  Socrates,  are  you  not  too  old  ?  there  may  be  reason 
to  fear  that. 

Soc.  Certainly  not,  Crito;  as  I  will  prove  to  you,  for  I  have 
the  consolation  of  knowing  that  they  began  this  art  of  disputa- 
tion which  I  covet,  quite,  as  I  may  say,  in  old  age;  last  year, 
or  the  year  before,  they  had  none  of  their  new  wisdom.    I  am 

*  Chios  (ki'os)  :  An  island  in  the  Mgean,  off  the  coast  of  Lydia,  colonized 
by  Greeks. 

Thurii  (thu'  ri-i) :  a  Greek  city  in  southern  Italy. 

6  Pancratiast  (from  pan,  all,  and  kratos,  strength) :  strictly,  one  who  took 
part  in  the  pancratium  (pan-kra'shi-um),  an  athletic  contest  which  combined 
boxing  and  wrestling. 

«  Acarnania  (ac'ar-na'ni-a) :  a  district  on  the  western  coast  of  Greece  whose 
inhabitants  were  rude  and  less  civilized  than  the  rest  of  the  Greeks.  They 
were  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  sling.  The  brothers  mentioned  do  not  seem  to 
have  been  widely  known. 


EUTHYDEMUS  37 

only  apprehensive  that  I  may  bring  the  two  strangers  into  dis- 
repute, as  I  have  done  Connus  the  son  of  Metrobius,7  the  harp- 
player,  who  is  still  my  music-master;  for  when  the  boys  who 
also  go  to  him  see  me  going,  they  laugh  at  me  and  call  him 
grandpapa's  master.  Now  I  should  not  like  the  strangers  to 
experience  this  sort  of  treatment,  and  perhaps  they  may  be 
afraid  and  not  like  to  receive  me  because  of  this;  and  therefore, 
Crito,  I  shall  try  and  persuade  some  old  men  to  go  along  with 
me  to  them,  as  I  persuaded  them  to  go  to  Connus,  and  I  hope 
that  you  will  make  one :  and  perhaps  we  had  better  take  your 
sons  as  a  bait;  they  will  want  to  have  them,  and  will  be  will- 
ing to  receive  us  as  pupils  for  the  sake  of  them. 

Cri.  I  see  no  objection,  Socrates,  if  you  like;  but  first  I 
wish  that  you  would  give  me  a  description  of  their  wisdom, 
that  I  may  know  beforehand  what  we  are  going  to  learn. 

Soc.  I  will  tell  you  at  once ;  for  I  cannot  say  that  I  did  not 
attend:  the  fact  was  that  I  paid  great  attention  to  them,  and 
I  remember  and  will  endeavor  to  tell  you  the  whole  story.  I 
was  providentially  sitting  alone  in  the  dressing-room  of  the 
Lyceum  in  which  you  saw  me,  and  was  about  to  depart,  when 
as  I  was  getting  up  I  recognized  the  familiar  divine  sign :  8so  I 
sat  down  again,  and  in  a  little  while  the  two  brothers 
Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus  came  in,  and  several 
others  with  them,  whom  I  believe  to  be  their  disciples,  and  they 
walked  about  in  the  covered  space;  they  had  not  taken  more 
than  two  or  three  turns  when  Cleinias  entered,  who,  as  you 
truly  say,  is  very  much  improved :  he  was  followed  by  a  host 
of  lovers,9  one  of  whom  was  Ctesippus  the  Paeanian,10  a  well- 
bred  youth,  but  also  having  the  wildness  of  youth.  Cleinias  saw 
me  from  the  entrance  as  I  was  sitting  alone,  and  at  once  came 
and  sat  down  on  the  right  hand  of  me,  as  you  describe ;  and 
Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus,  when  they  saw  him,  at  first 
stopped  and  talked  with  one  another,  now  and  then  glancing 
at  us,  for  I  particularly  watched  them;  and  then  Euthydemus 
came  and  sat  down  by  the  youth,  and  the  other  by  me  on  the 
left  hand;  the  rest  anywhere.  I  saluted  the  brothers,  whom  I 
had  not  seen  for  a  long  time;  and  then  I  said  to  Cleinias: 
These  two  men,  Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus,  Cleinias,  are 

7  Connus  (kon'nus)  ;  Metrobius  (me-tro'bf-us). 

8  See  Apology,  31  and  40. 

9  See  Phaedrus,  note  9.  10  Pceania  (pe-a'ni-a) :  -a  deme  of  Attica. 


38  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

not  in  a  small  but  in  a  large  way  of  wisdom,  for  they  know 
all  about  war, — all  that  a  good  general  ought  to  know  about 
the  array  and  command  of  an  army,  and  the  whole  art  of 
fighting  in  armor :  and  they  know  about  the  law  too,  and  can 
teach  a  man  how  to  use  the  weapons  of  the  courts  when  he  is 
injured. 

They  heard  me  say  this,  and  I  was  despised  by  them ;  they 
looked  at  one  another,  and  both  of  them  laughed;  and  then 
Euthydemus  said :  Those,  Socrates,  are  matters  which  we  no 
longer  pursue  seriously;  they  are  secondary  occupations  to  us. 

Indeed,  I  said,  if  such  occupations  are  regarded  by  you  as 
secondary,  what  must  the  principal  one  be;  tell  me,  I  beseech 
you,  what  that  noble  study  is  ? 

The  teaching  of  virtue,  Socrates,  he  replied,  is  our  principal 
occupation;  and  we  believe  that  we  can  impart  it  better  and 
quicker  than  any  man. 

My  God  !  I  said,  and  where  did  you  learn  that  ?  I  always 
thought,  as  I  was  saying  just  now,  that  your  chief  accomplish- 
ment was  the  art  of  fighting  in  armor;  and  this  was  what  I 
used  to  say  of  you,  for  I  remember  that  this  was  professed  by 
you  when  you  were  here  before.  But  now  if  you  really  have 
the  other  knowledge,  O  forgive  me :  I  address  you  as  I  would 
superior  beings,  and  ask  you  to  pardon  the  impiety  of  my  for- 
mer expressions.  But  are  you  quite  sure  about  this, 
Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus  ?  the  promise  is  so  vast, 
that  a  feeling  of  incredulity  will  creep  in. 

You  may  take  our  word,  Socrates,  for  the  fact. 

Then  I  think  you  happier  in  having  such  a  treasure  than 
the  great  king11  is  in  the  possession  of  his  kingdom.  And 
please  to  tell  me  whether  you  intend  to  exhibit  this  wisdom, 
or  what  you  will  do. 

That  is  why  we  are  come  hither,  Socrates ;  and  our  pur- 
pose is  not  only  to  exhibit,  but  also  to  teach  any  one  who 
likes  to  learn. 

But  I  can  promise  you,  I  said,  that  every  unvirtuous  per- 
son will  want  to  learn.  I  shall  be  the  first ;  and  there  is  the 
youth  Cleinias,  and  Ctesippus :  and  here  are  several  others,  I 
said,  pointing  to  the  lovers  of  Cleinias,  who  were  beginning 
to  gather  round  us.  Now  Ctesippus  was  sitting  at  some  dis- 
tance from  Cleinias ;  and  when  Euthydemus  leaned  forward 

11  King  of  Persia. 


EUTHYDEMUS 


39 


in   talking  with  me,  he  was  prevented  from  seeing  Cleinias, 
who  was  between  us  j  and  so,  partly  because  he  wanted  tc&^.v^ 
look  at  his  love,  and  also  because  he  was  interested,  he  jumped/  " 
up  and  stood  opposite  to  us  :   and  all  the  other  admirers  ofa^-i 
Cleinias,  as  well  as  the  disciples  ot  Euthydemus  and  Dionyso-k^    ""* 
dorus,   followed  his  example.     And  these  were  the  personsiJ^>U- 
whom  I  showed  to  Euthydemus,  telling  him  that  they  were 
all  eager  to  learn  :   to  which  Ctesippus  and  all  of  them  with 
one    voice    vehemently   assented,   and    bid    him  exhibit    the 
power   of  his   wisdom.     Then   I  said  :   O   Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus,  I  earnestly  request  you  to  do  myself  and  the 
company  the  favor  to  exhibit.     There  may  be  some  trouble 
in  giving  the  whole  exhibition  ;  but  tell  me  one  thing, — can 
yo  1  make  a  good  man  only  of  him  who  is  convinced  that  he 
ought  to  learn  of  you,  or  of  him  also  who  is  not  convinced? 
either  because  he  imagines  that  virtue  is  not  a  thing  which 
can   be  taught  at   all,  or  that  you  two  are  not  the  teachers 
of  it.     Say  whether  your  art  is  able  to  persuade  such  a  one 
nevertheless  that  virtue  can  be  taught ;  and  that  you  are  the 
men  from  whom  he  will  be  most  likely  to  learn. 

This  is   the  art,  Socrates,  said  Dionysodorus,  and  no  other. 

And  you,  Dionysodorus,  I  said,  are  the  men  who  among 
those  who  are  now  living  are  the  most  likely  to  stimulate  him 
to  philosophy  and  the  study  of  virtue? 

Yes,  Socrates,  I  rather  think  that  we  are. 

Then  I  wish  that  you  would  be  so  good  as  to  defer  the  other 
part  of  the  exhibition,  and  only  try  to  persuade  the  youth 
whom  you  see  here  that  he  ought  to  be  a  philosopher 
and  study  virtue.  Exhibit  that,  and  you  will  confer 
a  great  favor  on  me  and  on  every  one  present ;  for  the  fact 
is  that  I  and  all  of  us  are  extremely  anxious  that  he  should 
be  truly  good.  His  name  is  Cleinias,  and  he  is  the  son  of 
Axiochus,  and  grandson  of  the  old  Alcibiades,  cousin  of  the 
Alcibiades  that  now  is.  He  is  quite  young,  and  we  are  nat- 
ural ly  afraid  that  some  one  may  get  the  start  of  us,  and  turn 
his  mind  in  a  wrong  direction,  and  he  may  be  ruined.  Your 
visit,  therefore,  is  most  happily  timed  ;  and  I  hope  that  you 
will  make  a  trial  of  the  young  man,  and  converse  with  him 
in  our  presence,  if  you  have  no  objection. 

These  were  pretty  nearly  the  expressions  which  I  used  ; 
and  Euthydemus,  in  a  lofty  and  at  the  same  time  cheerful 


40  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

tone,  replied  :  There  can  be  no  objection,  Socrates,  if  the 
young  man  is  only  willing  to  answer  questions. 

He  is  quite  accustomed  to  that,  I  replied;  for  his  friends 
often  come  and  ask  him  questions  and  argue  with  him  ;  so 
that  he  is  at  home  in  answering. 

What  followed,  Crito,  how  can  I  rightly  narrate?  for  not 
slight  is  the  task  of  rehearsing  infinite  wisdom,  and  therefore, 
like  the  poets,  I  ought  to  commence  my  relation  with  an  in- 
vocation to  Memory  and  the  Muses.12  Now  Euthydemus,  if 
I  remember  rightly,  began  nearly  as  follows  :  O  Cleinias,  are 
those  who  learn  the  wise  or  the  ignorant  ? 

The  youth,  overpowered  by  the  question,  blushed,  and  in 
his  perplexity  looked  at  me  for  help  ;  and  I,  knowing  that  he 
was  disconcerted,  said  :  Don't  be  afraid,  Cleinias,  but  answer 
like  a  man  whichever  you  think  ;  for  my  belief  is  that  you 
will  derive  the  greatest  good  from  their  questions. 

Whichever  he  answers,  said  Dionysodorus,  leaning  forward 
in  my  ear  and  laughing,  I  prophesy  that  he  will  be  refuted, 
Socrates. 

While  he  was  speaking  to  me,  Cleinias  gave  his  answer: 
the  consequence  was  that  I  had  no  time  to  warn  him  of  the 

,  predicament  in  which  he  was  placed,  and  he  answered 
that  those  who  learned  were  the  wise. 

Euthydemus  proceeded  :  There  are  those  whom  you  call 
teachers,  are  there  not  ? 

The  boy  assented. 

And  they  are  the  teachers  of  those  who  learn, — the  gram- 
mar-master and  the  lyre-master  used  to  teach  you  and  other 
boys  ;  and  you  were  the  learners  ? 

Yes. 

And  when  you  were  learners  you  did  not  as  yet  know  the 
things  which  you  were  learning? 

No;  he  said. 

And  were  you  wise  then  ? 

No,  irideed,  he  said. 

But  if  you  were  not  wise  you  were  unlearned  ? 

Certainly. 

You  then,  learning  what  you  did  not  know,  were  unlearned 
when  you  were  learning? 

12  Originally,  nymphs  of  springs  whose  waters  were  thought  to  inspire 
song  ;  then  goddesses  of  song,  music,  poetry,  the  drama  and  all  fine  arts. 


EUTHYDEMUS  41 

The  youth  nodded  assent. 

Then  the  unlearned  learn,  and  not  the  wise,  Cleinias,  as 
you  imagine. 

At  these  words  the  followers  of  Euthydemus,  of  whom  I 
spoke,  like  a  chorus  at  the  bidding  of  their  director,  laughed 
and  cheered.  Then,  before  the  youth  had  well  time  to  re- 
cover, Dionysodorus  took  him  in  hand,  and  said  :  Yes, 
Cleinias ;  and  when  the  grammar-master  dictated  to  you, 
were  they  the  wise  boys  or  the  unlearned  who  learned  the 
dictation  ? 

The  wise,  replied  Cleinias. 

Then  after  all  the  wise  are  the  learners  and  not  the  un- 
learned ;  and  your  last  answer  to  Euthydemus  was  wrong. 

Then  followed  another  peal  of  laughter  and  shouting,  which 
came  from  the  admirers  of  the  two  heroes,  who  were  ravished 
with  their  wisdom,  while  the  rest  of  us  were  silent  and 
amazed.  Euthydemus  perceiving  this  determined  to  persevere 
with  the  youth ;  and  in  order  to  heighten  the  effect  went  on 
asking  another  similar  question,  which  might  be  compared  to 
the  double  turn  of  an  expert  dancer.  Do  those,  said  he,  who 
learn,  learn  what  they  know,  or  what  they  do  not  know? 

Dionysodorus  said  to  me  in  a  whisper :  That,  Socrates,  is 
just  another  of  the  same  sort. 

Good  heavens,  I  said  ;  and  your  last  question  was  sO  good  ! 

Like  all  our  other  questions,  Socrates,  he  replied, — inevi- 
table. 

I  see  the  reason,  I  said,  why  you  are  in  such  reputation 
among  your  disciples. 

Meanwhile  Cleinias  had  answered  Euthydemus  that  those 
who  learned,  learn  what  they  do  not  know ;  and  he  put  him 
through  a  series  of  questions  as  before. 

Don't  you  know  letters? 

He  assented. 

All  letters  ? 

Yes. 

But  when  the  teacher  dictates  to  you,  does  he  not  dictate 
letters  ? 

He  admitted  that. 

Then  if  you  know  all  letters,  he  dictates  that  which  you 
know  ? 

He  admitted  that  also. 


42  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Then,  said  the  other,  you  do  not  learn  that  which  he  dic- 
tates ;  but  he  only  who  does  not  know  letters  learns  ? 

Nay,  said  Cleinias;   but  I  do  learn. 

Then,  said  he,  you  learn  what  you  know,  if  you  know  all 
the  letters  ? 

He  admitted  that. 

Then,  he  said,  you  were  wrong  in  your  answer. 

The  word  was  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when  Dionysodorus 
took  up  the  argument,  like  a  ball  which  he  caught,  and  had 
another  throw  at  the  youth.  Cleinias,  he  said,  Euthydemus 
is  deceiving  you.  For  tell  me  now,  is  not  learning  acquiring 
knowledge  of  that  which  one  learns? 

Cleinias  assented. 

And  knowing  is  having  knowledge  at  the  time  ? 

He  agreed. 

And  not  knowing  is  not  having  knowledge  at  the  time? 

He  admitted  that. 

And  are  those  who  acquire  those  who  have  or  have  not  a 
thing? 

Those  who  have  not. 

And  have  you  not  admitted  that  those  who  do  not  know 
are  of  the  number  of  those  who  have  not  ? 

He  nodded  assent. 

Then  those  who  learn  are  of  the  class  of  those  who  acquire, 
and  not  of  those  who  have  ? 

He  agreed. 

Then,  Cleinias,  he  said,  those  who  do  not  know  learn,  and 
not  those  who  know. 

Euthydemus  was  proceeding  to  give  the  youth  a  third  fall, 
but  I  knew  that  he  was  in  deep  water,  and  therefore,  as  I 
wanted  to  give  him  a  rest,  and  also  in  order  that  he  might  not 
get  out  of  heart,  I  said  to  him  consolingly:  You  must  not  be 
surprised,  Cleinias,  at  the  singularity  of  their  mode  of  speech  : 
This  I  say  because  you  may  not  understand  what  they  are  do- 
ing with  you;  they  are  only  initiating  you  after  the  manner 
of  the  Cory  ban  tes15  in  the  mysteries14;  and  this  answers  to 

13  The  Corybantes  (kor-y-ban'tez)  were  priests  of  a  Phrygian  goddess  Cyb- 
ele  (syb'e-le),  whose  worship  was  introduced  into  Greece  among  the  lower 
ranks  of  people.  Her  fe*tivals  were  celebrated  with  wild  music  and  dancing, 
in  the  frenzy  of  which  the  worshippers  wounded  themselves  and  one  another. 

J4  Secret  religious  ceremonies,  employed  in  the  worship  of  certain  gods 
and  goddesses  (one  of  them  Cybele)  in  which  only  those  who  had  been  ini 
tiated  could  take  part. 


EUTHYDEMUS  43 

the  enthronement,  which,  if  you  have  ever  been  initiated,  is, 
as  you  will  know,  accompanied  by  dancing  and  sport ;  and 
now  they  are  just  prancing  and  dancing  about  you,  and  will 
next  proceed  to  initiate  you;  and  at  this  stage  you  must 
imagine  yourself  to  have  gone  through  the  first  part  of  the  so- 
phistical ritual,  which,  as  Prodicus  says,  begins  with  initiation 
into  the  correct  use  of  terms.  The  two  strange  gentlemen 
wanted  to  explain  to  you,  as  you  do  not  know,  that  the  word 
"  to  learn  "  has  two  meanings,  and  is  used,  first,  in  the  sense 
of  acquiring  knowledge  of  some  matter  of  which  you 
previously  have  no  knowledge,  and  also,  when  you  have 
the  knowledge,  in  the  sense  of  reviewing  this  same  matter 
done  or  spoken  by  the  light  of  this  knowledge ;  this  last  is 
generally  called  "knowing"  rather  than  "  learning  "  ;  but 
the  word  "  learning  "  is  also  used,  and  you  did  not  see  that 
the  word  is  used  of  two  opposite  sorts  of  men,  of  those  who 
know,  and  of  those  who  do  not  know,  as  they  explained. 
There  was  a  similar  trick  in  the  second  question,  when  they 
asked  you  whether  men  learn  what  they  know  or  what  they  do 
not  know.  These  parts  of  learning  are  not  serious,  and 
therefore  I  say  that  these  gentlemen  are  not  serious,  but  onl 
in  fun  with  you.  And  if  a  man  had  all  that  sort  of  knowl 
edge  that  ever  was,  he  would  not  be  at  all  the  wiser ;  he  would; 
only  be  able  to  play  with  men,  tripping  them  up  and  overset 
ting  them  with  distinctions  of  words.  He  would  be  like 
person  who  pulls  away  a  stool  from  some  one  when  he  is  abou 
to  sit  down,  and  then  laughs  and  claps  his  hands  at  the  sight 
of  his  friend  sprawling  on  the  ground.  And  you  must  regard 
all  that  has  passed  hitherto  as  merely  play.  But  now  I  am 
certain  that  they  will  proceed  to  business,  and  keep  their 
promise  (I  will  show  them  how) ;  for  they  promised  to  give 
me  a  sample  of  the  hortatory  philosophy,  but  I  suppose  that 
they  wanted  to  have  a  game  of  play  with  you  first.  And 
now,  Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus,  I  said,  I  think  that  we 
have  had  enough  of  this.  Will  you  let  me  see  you  exhibiting 
to  the  young  man,  and  showing  him  how  he  is  to  apply  him- 
self to  the  study  of  virtue  and  wisdom  ?  And  I  will  first  show 
you  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  nature  of  the  task,  and  what  I 
desire  to  hear  \  and  if  I  do  this  in  a  very  inartistic  and  ri- 
diculous manner,  do  not  laugh  at  me,  for  I  only  venture  to 
improvise  before  you  because  I  am  eager  to  hear  your  wisdom : 


44  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

and  I  must  therefore  ask  you  to  keep  your  countenances,  and 
your  disciples  also.  .  And  now,  O  son  of  Axiochus,  let  me  put 
a  question  to  you  :  Do  not  all  men  desire  happiness?  And 
yet,  perhaps,  this  is  one  of  those  ridiculous  questions  which 
I  am  afraid  to  ask,  and  which  ought  not  to  be  asked  by  a  sen- 
sible man  :  for  what  human  being  is  there  who  does  not  de- 
sire happiness? 

There  is  no  one,  said  Cleinias,  who  does  not. 
Well,  then,  I  said,  since  we  all  of  us  desire  happiness, 
how  can  we  be  happy  ?- — that  is  the  next  question.  Shall  we 
not  be  happy  if  we  have  many  good  things?  And  this  per- 
haps, is  even  a  more  simple  question  than  the  first,  for  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  answer. 

He  assented. 

And  what  things  do  we  esteem  good  ?  No  solemn  sage  is 
required  to  tell  us  this,  which  may  be  easily  answered  ;  for 
every  one  will  say  that  wealth  is  a  good. 

Certainly,  he  said. 

And  are  not  health  and  beauty  goods,  and  other  personal 
gifts? 

He  agreed. 

Now,  can  there  be  any  doubt  that  good  birth,  and  power, 
and  honors  in  one's  own  land,  are  goods? 

He  assented. 

And  what  other  goods  are  there  ?  I  said.  What  do  you 
say  of  justice,  temperance,  courage  :  do  you  not  verily  and 
indeed  think,  Cleinias,  that  we  shall  be  more  right  in  ranking 
them  as  goods  than  in  not  ranking  them  as  goods  ?  For  a 
dispute  might  possibly  arise  about  this.   What  then  do  you  say  ? 

They  are  goods,  said  Cleinias. 

Very  well,  I  said ;  and  in  what  company  shall  we  find  a 
place  for  wisdom — among  the  goods  or  not  ? 

Among  the  goods. 

And  now,  I  said,  think  whether  we  have  left  out  any  con- 
siderable goods. 

I  do  not  think  that  we  have,  said  Cleinias. 

Upon  recollection,  1  said,  indeed  I  am  afraid  that  we  have 
left  out  the  greatest  of  them  all. 

What  is  that  ?  he  asked. 

Fortune,  Cleinias,  I  replied  ;  which  all,  even  the  most 
foolish,  admit  to  be  the  greatest  of  goods. 


EUTHYDEMUS  45 

True,  he  said. 

On  second  thoughts,  I  added,  how  narrowly,  O  son  of  Ax- 
iochus,  have  you  and  I  escaped  making  a  laughing-stock  of 
ourselves  to  the  strangers. 

Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

Why,  because  we  have  already  spoken  of  fortune,  and  are 
but  repeating  ourselves. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  that  there  is  something  ridiculous  in  putting  fortune 
again  forward,  and  saying  the  same  thing  twice  over. 

He  asked  what  was  the  meaning  of  this,  and  I  replied : 
Surely  wisdom  is  good  fortune ;  even  a  child  may  know  that. 

The  simple-minded  youth  was  amazed ;  and,  observing 
this,  I  said  to  him  :  Do  you  not  know,  Cleinias,  that  flute- 
players  are  most  fortunate  and  successful  in  performing  on  the 
flute  ? 

He  assented. 

And  are  not  the  scribes  most  fortunate  in  writing  and  read- 
ing letters? 

Certainly. 

Amid  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  again,  are  any  more  fortunate 
on  the  whole  than  wise  pilots  ? 

None,  certainly. 

And  if  you  were  engaged  in  war,  in  whose  company  would 
you  rather  take  the  risk — in  company  with  a  wise  general,  or 
with  a  foolish  one? 

With  a  wise  one. 

And  if  you  were  ill,  whom  would  you  rather  have  as  a  com- 
panion in  a  dangerous  illness — a  wise  physician,  or  an  igno- 
rant one  ? 

A  wise  one. 

You  think,  I  said,  that  to  act  with  a  wise  man  is  more  fort- 
unate than  to  act  with  an  ignorant  one? 

He  assented. 

Then  wisdom  always  makes  men  fortunate  :  for  by  wisdom 
no  man  would  ever  err,  and  therefore  he  must  act  rightly  and 
succeed,  or  his  wisdom  would  be  wisdom  no  longer.  At  ~ 
last  we  somehow  contrived  to  agree  in  a  general  conclu- 
sion, that  he  who  had  wisdom  had  no  longer  need  of  fortune. 
I  then  recalled  to  his  mind  the  previous  state  of  the  question. 
You  remember,  I  said,  our  making  the    admission  that   we 


46  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

should   be  happy  and  fortunate  if  many  good  things  were 
present  with  us  ? 

He  assented. 

And  should  we  be  happy  by  reason  of  the  presence  of  good 
things,  if  they  profited  us  not,  or  if  they  profited  us? 

If  they  profited  us,  he  said. 

And  would  they  profit  us,  if  we  only  had  them  and  did  not 
use  them  ?  For  example,  if  we  had  a  great  deal  of  food  and 
did  not  eat,  or  a  great  deal  of  drink  and  did  not  drink,  should 
we  be  profited  ? 

Certainly  not,  he  said. 

Or  would  an  artisan,  who  had  all  the  implements  necessary 
for  his  work,  and  did  not  use  them,  be  any  better  for  the  pos- 
session of  all  that  he  ought  to  possess  ?  For  example,  would 
a  carpenter  be  any  the  better  for  having  all  his  tools  and 
plenty  of  wood,  if  he  never  worked  ? 

Certainly  no,  he  said. 

And  if  a  person  had  wealth,  and  all  the  goods  of  which  we 
were  just  now  speaking,  and  did  not  use  them  ;  would  he  be 
happy  because  he  possessed  them  ? 

No  indeed,  Socrates. 

Then,  I  said,  a  man  who  would  be  happy  must  not  only 
have  the  good  things,  but  he  must  also  use  them  ;  there  is  no 
advantage  in  merely  having  them. 

True. 

Well,  Cleinias,  but  if  you  have  the  use  as  well  as  the  pos- 
session of  good  things,  is  that  sufficient  to  confer  happiness  ? 

Yes,  in  my  opinion. 

And  may  a  person  use  them  either  rightly  or  wrongly  ? 

He  must  use  them  rightly. 

That  is  quite  true,  I  said.     And  the  wrong  use  of  a  thing  is 
far  worse  than  the  non-use  ;  for  the  one  is  an  evil,  and  the 
«       other  is  neither  a  good  nor  an  evil.     You  admit  that  ? 
He  assented. 

Now  in  the  working  and  use  of  wood,  is  not  that  which 
gives  the  right  use  simply  the  knowledge  of  the  carpenter? 

Nothing  else,  he  said. 

And  surely,  in  the  manufacture  of  vessels,  knowledge  is 
that  which  gives  the  right  way  of  making  them  ? 

He  agreed. 

And  in  the  use  of  the  goods  of  which  we  spoke  at  first, — 


EUTHYDEMUS  47 

wealth  and  health  and  beauty, — is  not  knowledge  that  which 
directs  us  to  the  right  use  of  them,  and  guides  our  practice 
about  them  ? 

Knowledge,  he  replied. 

Then  in  every  possession  and  every  use  of  a  thing,  knowl- 
edge is  that  which  gives  a  man  not  only  good  fortune  but 
success  ? 

He  assented. 

And  tell  me,  I  said,  O  tell  me,  what  do  possessions  profit  a 
man,  if  he  have  neither  sense  nor  wisdom  ?  Would  a  man  be 
better  off,  having  and  doing  many  things  without  wisdom,  or 
a  few  things  with  wisdom  ?  Look  at  the  matter  thus  :  if  he 
did  fewer  things  would  he  not  make  fewer  mistakes  ?  if  he 
made  fewer  mistakes  would  he  not  have  fewer  misfortunes? 
and  if  he  had  fewer  misfortunes  would  he  not  be  less  misera- 
ble? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

And  who  would  do  least — a  poor  man  or  a  rich  man  ? 

A  poor  man. 

A  weak  man  or  a  strong  man  ? 

A  weak  man. 

A  noble  man  or  a  mean  man  ? 

A  mean  man. 

And  a  coward  would  do  less  than  a  courageous  and  temper- 
ate man  ? 

Yes. 

And  an  indolent  man  less  than  an  active  man  ? 

He  assented. 

And  a  slow  man  less  than  a  quick  ;  and  one  who  had  dull 
perceptions  of  seeing  and  hearing  less  than  one  who  had  keen 
ones  ? 

All  this  was  mutually  allowed  by  us. 

Then,  I  said,  Cleinias,  the  sum  of  the  matter  appears  to  be 
that  the  goods  of  which  we  spoke  before  are  not  to  be  regarded 
as  goods  in  themselves,  but  the  degree  of  good  and  evil  in 
them  depends  on  whether  they  are  or  are  not  under  the  guid- 
ance of  knowledge :  under  the  guidance  of  ignorance,  they 
are  greater  evils  than  their  opposites,  inasmuch  as  they  are 
more  able  to  minister  to  the  evil  principle  which  rules  them  ; 
and  when  under  the  guidance  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  they  are 
greater  goods  :  but  in  themselves  they  are  nothing  ? 


48  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

That,  he  said,  appears  to  be  certain. 

What  then,  I  said,  is  the  result  of  all  this  ?  Is  not  this  the 
result — that  other  things  are  indifferent,  and  that  wisdom  is 
the  only  good,  and  ignorance  the  only  evil  ? 

He  assented. 

Let  us  consider  this  further  point,  I  said :  Seeing  that  all 
men  desire  happiness,  and  happiness,  as  has  been  shown,  is 
8  gained  by  a  use,  and  a  right  use,  of  the  things  of  life, 
2  2  and  the  right  use  of  them,  and  good  fortune  in  the  use  of 
them,  is  given  by  knowledge,  the  inference  is  that  every  man 
ought  by  all  means  to  try  and  make  himself  as  wise  as  he 
can  ? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  the  desire  to  obtain  this  treasure,  which  is  far  more 
precious  than  money,  from  a  father  or  a  guardian  or  a  friend 
or  a  suitor,  whether  citizen  or  stranger — the  eager  desire  and 
prayer  to  them  that  they  would  impart  wisdom  to  you,  is  not 
at  all  dishonorable,  Cleinias ;  nor  is  any  one  to  be  blamed  for 
doing  any  honorable  service  or  ministration  to  any  man, 
whether  a  lover  or  not,  if  his  aim  is  wisdom.  Do  you  agree 
to  that,  I  said. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  quite  agree,  and  think  that  you  are  right. 

Yes,  I  said,  Cleinias,  if  only  wisdom  can  be  taught,  and 
does  not  come  to  man  spontaneously;  for  that  is  a  point 
which  has  still  to  be  considered,  and  is  not  yet  agreed  upon 
by  you  and  me. 

But  I  think,  Socrates,  that  wisdom  can  be  taught,  he  said. 

Best  of  men,  I  said,  I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  that ; 
and  I  am  also  grateful  to  you  for  having  saved  me  from  along 
and  tiresome  speculation  as  to  whether  wisdom  can  be  taught 
or  not.  But  now,  as  you  think  that  wisdom  can  be  taught, 
and  that  wisdom  only  can  make  a  man  happy  and  fortunate, 
will  you  not  acknowledge  that  all  of  us  ought  to  love  Wisdom, 
and  that  you  in  particular  should  be  of  this  mind  and  try  to 
love  her  ? 

Certainly,  Socrates,  he  said ;  and  I  will  do  my  best. 

I  was  pleased  at  hearing  this ;  and  I  turned  to  Dionysodorus 
and  Euthydemus  and  said  :  That  is  an  example,  clumsy  and 
tedious  I  admit,  of  the  sort  of  exhortations  which  I  desire  you 
to  offer  ;  and  I  hope  that  one  of  you  will  set  forth  what  I 
have  been  saying  in  a  more  artistic  style  :  at  any  rate  take  up 


EUTHYDEMUS  49 

the  inquiry  where  I  left  off,  and  next  show  the  youth  whether 
he  should  have  all  knowledge ;  or  whether  there  is  one  sort  of 
knowledge  only  which  will  make  him  good  and  happy,  and 
what  that  is.  For,  as  I  was  saying  at  first,  the  improvement 
of  this  young  man  in  virtue  and  wisdom  is  a  matter  which  we 
have  very  much  at  heart. 

Thus  I  spoke,  Crito,  and  was  all  attention  to  what  was 
coming.  I  wanted  to  see  how  they  would  approach  the  ques- 
tion, and  where  they  would  start  in  their  exhortation  to  ~ 
the  young  man  that  he  should  practice  wisdom  and  2  ■ 
virtue.  Dionysodorus  the  elder  spoke  first.  Everybody's 
eyes  were  directed  toward  him,  perceiving  that  something 
wonderful  might  shortly  be  expected.  And  certainly  they 
were  not  far  wrong  ;  for  the  man,  Crito,  began  a  remarkable 
discourse  well  worth  hearing,  and  wonderfully  persuasive  as  an 
exhortation  to  virtue. 

Tell  me,  he  said,  Socrates  and  the  rest  of  you  who  say  that 
you  want  this  young  man  to  become  wise,  are  you  in  jest  or 
in  real  earnest  ? 

(I  was  led  by  this  to  imagine  that  they  fancied  us  to  have 
been  jesting  when  we  asked  them  to  converse  with  the  youth, 
and  that  this  made  them  jest  and  play,  and  being  under  this 
impression,  I  was  the  more  decided  in  saying  that  we  were  in 
profound  earnest.)     Dionysodorus  said  . 

Reflect,  Socrates ;  you  may  have  to  deny  your  words. 

I  have  reflected,  I  said  j  and  I  shall  never  deny  my  words. 

Well,  said  he,  and  so  you  say  that  you  wish  Cleinias  to  be- 
come wise  ? 

Undoubtedly. 

And  he  is  not  wise  yet  ? 

At  least  his  modesty  will  not  allow  him  to  say  that  he  is. 

You  wish  him,  he  said,  to  become  wise  and  not  to  be  ig- 
norant ? 

That  we  do. 

You  wish  him  to  be  what  he  is  not,  and  no  longer  to  be 
what  he  is. 

I  was  thrown  into  consternation  at  this. 

Taking  advantage  of  my  consternation  he  added  :  You  wish 
him  no  longer  to  be  what  he  is,  which  can  only  mean  that  you 
wish  him  to  perish.  Pretty  lovers  and  friends  they  must  be 
who  want  their  favorite  not  to  be,  or  to  perish  ! 


50  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

When  Ctesippus  heard  this  he  got  very  angry  (as  a  lover 
might)  and  said  :  Strangers  of  Thurii — if  politeness  would 
allow  me  I  should  say,  You  be  hanged.  What  can  make  you 
tell  such  a  lie  about  me  and  the  others,  which  I  hardly  like  to 
repeat,  as  that  I  wish  Cleinias  to  perish  ? 

Euthydemus  replied :  And  do  you  think,  Ctesippus,  that  it 
is  possible  to  tell  a  lie? 

Yes,  said  Ctesippus ;  I  should  be  mad  to  deny  that. 
R  And  in  telling  a  lie,  do  you  tell  the  thing  of  which 

4     you  speak  or  not  ? 

You  tell  the  thing  of  which  you  speak. 

And  he  who  tells,  tells  that  thing  which  he  tells,  and  no 
other  ? 

Yes,  said  Ctesippus. 

And  that  is  a  distinct  thing  apart  from  other  things  ? 

Certainly. 

And  he  who  says  that  thing  says  that  which  is  ? 

Yes. 

And  he  who  says  that  which  is,  says  the  truth.  And  there- 
fore Dionysodorus,  if  he  says  that  which  is,  says  the  truth  of 
you  and  no  lie. 

Yes,  Euthydemus,  said  Ctesippus;  but  in  saying  this,  he 
says  what  is  not. 

Euthydemus  answered  :   And  that  which  is  not  is  not. 

True. 

And  that  which  is  not  is  nowhere  ? 

Nowhere. 

And  can  any  one  do  anything  about  that  which  has  no 
existence,  or  do  to  Cleinias  that  which  is  not  and  is  no- 
where ? 

I  think  not,  said  Ctesippus. 

Well,  but  do  rhetoricians,  when  they  speak  in  the  assembly 
do  nothing? 

Nay,  he  said,  they  do  something.' 

And  doing  is  making  ? 

Yes. 

And  speaking  is  doing  and  making  ? 

He  agreed. 

Then  no  one  says  that  which  is  not,  for  in  saying  that,  he 
would  be  doing  nothing  ;  and  you  have  already  acknowledged 
that  no  one  can  do  what  is  not.     And  therefore,  upon  your 


EUTHYDEMUS  5 1 

own  showing,  no  one  says  what  is  false  ;  but  if  Dionysodorus 
says  anything,  he  says  what  is  true  and  what  is. 

Yes,  Euthydemus,  said  Ctesippus ;  but  he  speaks  of  things 
in  a  certain  way  and  manner,  and  not  as  they  really  are. 

Why,  Ctesippus,  said  Dionysodorus,  do  you  mean  to  say 
that  any  one  speaks  of  things  as  they  are  ? 

Yes,  he  said, — all  gentlemen  and  truth-speaking  persons. 

And  are  not  good  things  good,  and  evil  things  evil  ? 

He  assented. 

And  you  say  that  gentlemen  speak  of  things  as  they  are? 

Yes. 

Then  the  good  speak  evil  of  evil  things,  if  they  speak  of 
them  as  they  are  ? 

Yes,  indeed,  he  said ;  and  they  speak  evil  of  evil  men. 
And  if  I  may  give  you  a  piece  of  advice,  you  had  better  take 
care  that  they  don't  speak  evil  of  you,  since  I  can  tell  you  that 
the  good  speak  evil  of  the  evil. 

And  do  they  speak  great  things  of  the  great,  rejoined  Euthy- 
demus, and  warm  things  of  the  warm  ? 

Yes,  indeed,  said  Ctesippus  ;  and  they  speak  coldly  of  the 
insipid  and  cold  dialectician. 

You  are  abusive,  Ctesippus,  you  are  abusive  ! 

Indeed,  I  am  not,  Dionysodorus,  he  replied  ;  for  I  love  you 
and  am  giving  you  friendly  advice,  and,  if  I  could,  would      R 
persuade  you  not  to  make  so  uncivil  a  speech  to  me  as 
that  I  desire  my  beloved,  whom  I  value  above  all  men,  to 
perish. 

I  saw  that  they  were  getting  exasperated  with  one  another, 
so  I  made  a  joke  with  him  and  said  :  O  Ctesippus,  I  think  that 
we  must  allow  the  strangers  to  use  language  in  their  own  way, 
and  not  quarrel  with  them  about  words,  but  be  thankful  for 
what  they  give  us.  If  they  know  how  to  destroy  men  in  such 
a  way  as  to  make  good  and  sensible  men  out  of  bad  and  foolish 
ones — whether  this  is  a  discovery  of  their  own,  or  whether 
they  have  learned  from  some  one  else,  this  new  sort  of  death 
and  destruction,  which  enables  them  to  get  rid  of  a  bad  man 
and  put  a  good  one  in  his  place — if  they  know  this  (and  they 
do  know  this — at  any  rate  they  said  just  now  that  this  was 
the  secret  of  their  newly-discovered  art) — let  them,  in  their 
phraseology,  destroy  the  youth  and  make  him  wise,  and  all  of 
us  with  him.     But  if  you  young  men  do  not  like  to  trust  your- 


52  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

selves  with  them,  then  let  the  experiment  be  made  on  the  body 
of  an  old  man.  I  will  be  the  Carian15  on  whom  they  shall 
operate.  And  here  I  offer  my  old  person  to  Dionysodorus  ; 
he  may  put  me  into  the  pot,  like  Medea16  the  Colchian,  kill 
me,  pickle  me,  eat  me,  if  he  will  make  me  good. 

Ctesippus  said  :  And  I,  Socrates,  am  ready  to  commit  myself 
to  the  stranger ;  they  may  skin  me  alive,  if  they  please  (and 
I  am  pretty  well  skinned  by  them  already),  if  only  my  skin  is 
made  at  last,  not  like  that  of  Marsyas,17  into  a  leathern  bottle, 
but  into  a  piece  of  virtue.  And  here  is  Dionysodorus  fancying 
that  I  am  angry  with  him,  when  I  am  really  not  angry  at  all ; 
I  do  but  contradict  him  when  he  seems  to  me  to  be  in  the 
wrong  :  and  you  must  not  confound  abuse  and  contradiction, 
O  illustrious  Dionysodorus ;  for  they  are  quite  different  things. 

Contradiction  !  said  Dionysodorus ;  why,  there  never  was 
such  a  thing. 

Certainly  there  is,  he  replied  ;  there  can  be  no  question  of 
that.     Do  you,  Dionysodorus,  maintain  that  there  is  not  ? 

You  will  never  prove  to  me,  he  said,  that  you  have  heard 
any  one  contradicting  any  one  else. 

Indeed,  he  said  :  then  now  you  may  hear  Ctesippus  contra- 
dicting Dionysodorus.     Are  you  prepared  to  make  that  good  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Well,  then,  are  not  words  expressive  of  things  ? 

Yes. 

Of  their  existence  or  of  their  non  existence  ? 

Of  their  existence.  For,  as  you  may  remember,  Ctesippus, 
8 .  we  just  now  proved  that  no  man  could  affirm  a  nega- 
tive ;  for  no  one  could  affirm  that  which  is  not. 

And  what  does  that  signify,  said  Ctesippus  ;  you  and  I  may 
contradict  all  the  same  for  that. 

15  Caria  (ka'ri-a) :  a  district  of  Asia  Minor  whose  inhabitants  the  Greeks  re- 
garded as  despicable  and  stupid.  Many  of  the  Greek  slaves  were  Carians. 
k'  In  later  times  the  Carians  hired  themselves  out  as  mercenaries  ;  as  such 
they  were  used  in  forlorn  hopes,  so  as  to  spare  the  lives  of  citizen-soldiers  ; 
whence  the  proverb, — to  make  the  risk  not  With  one's  own  person  but  with  a 
Carian."     L.  and  S. 

16  Medea  (me-de'a)  the  Colchian :  a  mythical  princess  and  sorceress  of 
Colchis  (kSl'kis)  in  Asia,  said  to  have  the  power  to  make  the  old  young  by 
means  of  a  magic  liquid  which  she  prepared. 

17  Marsyas  (mar's^-as)  :  a  minor  divinity  who  found  the  flute  discarded  by 
the  goddess  Athene  and  who  became  so  skilful  with  it  that  he  challenged 
Apollo,  patron  god  of  the  lyre,  to  a  contest.  The  Muses  decided  in  favor 
of  Apollo,  who  then  flayed  Marsyas  alive. 


EUTHYDEMUS  53 

But  can  we  contradict  one  another,  said  Dionysodorus, 
when  both  of  us  are  describing  the  same  thing  ?  Then  we 
must  surely  be  speaking  the  same  thing  ? 

Be  admitted  that. 

Or  when  neither  of  us  is  speaking  of  the  same  thing  ?  For 
then  neither  of  us  says  a  word  about  the  thing  at  all  ? 

He  granted  that  also. 

Bnt  when  I  describe  something  and  you  describe  another 
thing,  or  I  say  something  and  you  say  nothing,  is  there  any 
contradiction  ?  How  can  he  who  speaks  contradict  him  who 
speaks  not  ? 

Here  Ctesippus  was  silent;  and  I  in  my  astonishment  said  : 
What  do  you  mean,  Dionysodorus?  I  have  often  heard,  and 
have  been  amazed,  to  hear  this  thesis  of  yours,  which  is  main- 
tained and  employed  by  the  disciples  of  Protagoras,18  and  others 
before  them,  and  which  to  me  appears  to  be  quite  wonderful 
and  suicidal,  as  well  as  destructive,  and  I  think  that  I  am 
most  likely  to  hear  the  truth  of  this  from  you.  The  dictum 
is  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  falsehood  j  a  man  must  either 
say  what  is  true  or  say  nothing.     Is  not  that  your  position  ? 

He  assented. 

But  if  he  cannot  speak  falsely,  may  he  not  think  falsely  ? 

No,  he  cannot,  he  said. 

Then  there  is  no  such  thing  as  false  opinion  ? 

No,  he  said. 

Then  there  is  no  such  thing  as  ignorance,  or  men  who  are 
ignorant ;  for  is  not  ignorance,  if  there  be  such  a  thing,  a  mis- 
take of  facts  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

And  that  is  impossible? 

Impossible,  he  replied. 

Are  you  saying  this  as  a  paradox,  Dionysodorus ;  or  do  you 
seriously  maintain  that  no  man  is  ignorant  ? 

Do  you  refute  me  ?  he  said. 

But  how  can  I  refute  you,  if,  as  you  say,  falsehood  is  im- 
possible ? 

Very  true,  said  Euthydemus. 

Neither  did  I  tell  you  just  now  to  refute  me,  said  Dionyso- 
dorus j  for  how  can  I  tell  you  to  do  that  which  is  not  ? 

18  Protagoras  (pro-tag'o-ras) :  a  celebrated  Sophist.  See  the  dialogue  Pro- 
tagoras. 


$4  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

0  Euthydemus,  I  said,  I  have  but  a  dull  conception  of  these 
subtleties  and  excellent  devices  of  wisdom  j  I  am  afraid  that  I 
hardly  understand  them,  and  you  must  forgive  me  therefore  if 

8       I  ask  a  very  stupid  question  :   if  there  be  no  falsehood  or 

7  false  opinion  or  ignorance,  there  can  be  no  such  thing 
as  erroneous  action,  for  a  man  cannot  fail  of  acting  as  he  is 
acting — that  is  what  you  mean  ? 

Yes,  he  replied. 

And  now,  I  said,  I  will  ask  my  stupid  question  :  If  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  error  in  deed,  word,  or  thought,  then  what, 
in  the  name  of  goodness,  do  you  come  hither  to  teach  ?  And 
were  you  not  just  now  saying  that  you  could  teach  virtue  best 
of  all  men,  to  any  one  who  could  learn? 

And  are  you  such  an  old  fool,  Socrates,  rejoined  Dionyso- 
dorus,  that  you  bring  up  now  what  I  said  at  first — and  if  I 
had  said  anything  last  year,  I  suppose  that  you  would  bring 
that  up — but  are  nonplussed  at  the  words  I  have  just  uttered  ? 

Why,  I  said,  they  are  not  easy  to  answer ;  for  they  are  the 
words  of  wise  men  :  and  indeed  I  have  a  great  difficulty  in 
knowing  what  you  mean  in  that  last  expression  of  yours,  "  That 
I  am  nonplussed  at  them."  What  do  you  mean  by  that, 
Dionysodorus  ?  You  must  mean  that  I  have  no  refutation  of 
them.     Tell  me  if  the  words  have  any  other  sense. 

No,  he  said  ;  the  sense  or  meaning  of  them  is  that  there  is  a 
difficulty  in  answering  them ;  and  I  wish  that  you  would  answer. 

What,  before  you,  Dionysodorus  ?  I  said. 

Answer,  said  he. 

And  is  that  fair  ? 

Yes,  quite  fair,  he  said. 

Upon  what  principle  ?  I  said.  I  can  only  suppose  that  you 
are  a  very  wise  man,  who  comes  to  us  in  the  character  of  a 
great  logician,  and  who  knows  when  to  answer  and  when  not 
to  answer — and  now  you  won't  open  your  mouth  at  all,  be- 
cause you  know  that  you  ought  not. 

You  prate,  he  said,  instead  of  answering.  But  if,  my  good 
sir,  you  admit  that  I  am  wise,  answer  as  I  tell  you. 

1  suppose  that  I  must  obey,  for  you  are  master.  Put  the 
question. 

Are  the  things  which  have  sense  alive  or  lifeless? 

They  are  alive. 

And  do  you  know  of  any  word  which  is  alive? 


EUTHYDEMUS  55 

I  cannot  say  that  I  do. 

Then  why  did  you  ask  me  what  sense  my  words  had  ? 

Why,  because  I  was  stupid  and  made  a  mistake.  And  yet, 
perhaps,  I  was  right  after  all  in  saying  that  words  have  a 
sense  ;  what  do  you  say,  wise  man  ?  If  I  was  not  in  error, 
and  you  do  not  refute  me,  all  your  wisdom  will  be  nonplussed; 
but  if  I  did  fall  into  error,  then  again  you  are  wrong  in  saying 
that  there  is  no  error, — and  this  remark  was  made  by 
you  not  quite  a  year  ago.  I  am  inclined  to  think,  how-  288" 
ever,  Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus,  that  this  argument  3°2 
is  not  very  likely  to  advance  :  even  your  skill  in  the  subtleties 
of  logic,  which  is  really  amazing,  has  not  found  out  the  way 
of  throwing  another  and  not  falling  yourself. 

Ctesippus  said  :  Men  of  Chios,  Thurii,  or  however  and 
whatever  you  call  yourselves,  I  wonder  at  you,  for  you  seem 
to  have  no  objection  to  talking  nonsense. 

Fearing  that  there  would  be  high  words,  I  endeavored  to 
soothe  Ctesippus,  and  said  to  him  :  To  you,  Ctesippus,  I 
must  repeat  what  I  said  before  to  Cleinias — that  you  don't 
understand  the  peculiarity  of  these  philosophers.  They  are 
not  serious,  but,  like  the  Egyptian  wizard,  Proteus,19  they 
take  different  forms  and  deceive  us  by  their  enchantments  ; 
and  let  us,  like  Menelaus,  refuse  to  let  them  go  until  they 
show  us  their  real  form  and  character.  When  they  are  in 
earnest  their  full  beauty  will  appear  :  let  us  then  beg  and  en- 
treat and  beseech  them  to  shine  forth.  And  I  think  that  I 
had  better  show  them  once  more  the  form  in  which  I  pray  to 
behold  them. 

[Socrates  gives  another  example  of  his  method,  but  the 
conversation  again  returns  to  the  level  of  the  two  sophists. 
Several  pages  of  this  quibbling  are  omitted.  Their  last 
masterpiece  was  a  proof  that  all  things  which  have  life  are 
animals,  that  the  gods  have  life  and  so  are  animals,  that  the 
gods  are  your  gods,  and  so  you  may  sell  them  as  you  do 
other  animals.] 

19  Proteus  (pro'teus)  :  a  minor  sea  divinity  who  lived  on  an  island  off  the 
coast  of  Egypt.  He  possessed  prophetic  power  but  was  reluctant  to  exercise 
the  gift  and,  to  avoid  doing  so,  would  assume  all  kinds  of  shapes.  If  the  one 
consulting  him  caught  and  held  him  fast  through  all  these  changes  he  re- 
turned to  his  own  form  and  told  the  truth.  Menelaus,  the  legendary  king  of 
Sparta,  in  this  way  once  forced  Proteus  to  prophesy. 


56  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

At  this  I  was  quite  struck  dumb,  Crito,  and  lay  pros- 
trate.     Ctesippus  came  to  the  rescue. 

Bravo,  Heracles,20  brave  words,  said  he. 

Bravo  Heracles,  or  is  Heracles  a  bravo  ?  said  Dionyso- 
dorus. 

Poseidon,21  said  Ctesippus,  what  awful  distinctions.  I  will 
have  no  more  of  them  ;  the  pair  are  invincible. 

Then,  my  dear  Crito,  there  was  universal  applause  of  the 
speakers  and  their  words,  and  what  with  laughing  and  clap- 
ping of  hands  and  rejoicings  the  two  men  were  quite  overpow- 
ered ;  for  hitherto  only  their  partisans  had  cheered  at  each 
successive  hit,  but  now  the  whole  company  shouted  with  de- 
light until  the  columns  of  the  Lyceum  returned  the  sound, 
seeming  almost  to  sympathize  in  their  joy.  To  such  a  pitch 
was  I  affected  myself,  that  I  made  a  speech,  in  which  I  ac- 
knowledged that  I  had  never  seen  the  like  of  their  wisdom  ;  I 
was  their  devoted  servant,  and  fell  to  praising  and  admiring  of 
them.  What  marvellous  dexterity  of  wit,  I  said,  enabled  you 
to  acquire  this  great  perfection  in  such  a  short  time  ?  There 
is  much,  indeed,  to  admire  in  your  words,  Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus,  but  there  is  nothing  that  I  admire  more  than 
your  magnanimous  disregard  of  any  opinion, — whether  of  the 
many,  or  of  the  grave  and  reverend  seigniors, — which  is  not 
the  opinion  of  those  who  are  like-minded  with  you.  And  I 
do  verily  believe  that  there  are  few  who  are  like  you,  and 
would  approve  of  your  arguments ;  the  majority  of  mankind 
are  so  ignorant  of  their  value,  that  they  would  be  more 
ashamed  of  employing  them  in  the  refutation  of  others  than 
of  being  refuted  by  them.  I  must  further  express  my  approval 
of  your  kind  and  public-spirited  denial  of  all  differences, 
whether  of  good  and  evil,  white  or  black,  or  any  other ;  the 
result  of  which  is  that,  as  you  say,  every  mouth  is  stopped, 
not  excepting  your  own,  which  graciously  follows  the  exam- 
ple of  others;  and  thus  all  ground  of  offense  is  taken  away. 
But  what  appears  to  me  to  be  more  than  all  is,  that  this  art 
and  invention  of  yours  is  so  admirably  contrived,  that  in  a 
very  short  time  it  can  be  imparted  to  any  one.     I  observe  that 

20  Heracles  (her'a-klez)  or  Hercules  (her'ku-lez) :  one  of  the  oldest  and  most 
famous  heroes  in  Greek  mythology ;  by  his  gigantic  strength  he  accom- 
plished many  wonderful  labors. 

21  Poseidon  (po-sT'don)  :  god  of  the  sea,  and  of  flowing  waters,  correspond 
ing  to  the  Roman  Neptune. 


EUTHYDEMUS  57 

Ctesippus  learned  to  imitate  you  in  no  time.  Now  this  quick- 
ness of  attainment  is  an  excellent  thing;  but  at  the  same  time 
I  would  advise  you  not  to  have  any  more  public  enter- 
tainments ;  there  is  a  danger  that  men  may  undervalue  3°4 
an  art  which  they  have  so  easy  an  opportunity  of  learning ; 
the  exhibition  would  be  best  of  all,  if  the  discussion  were  con- 
fined to  your  two  selves ;  but  if  there  must  be  an  audience, 
let  him  only  be  present  who  is  willing  to  pay  a  handsome  fee, 
— you  should  be  careful  of  this, — and  if  you  are  wise,  you  will 
also  bid  your  disciples  discourse  with  no  man  but  you  and 
themselves.  For  only  what  is  rare  is  valuable ;  and  water, 
which,  as  Pindar  22  says,  is  the  best  of  all  things,  is  also  the 
cheapest.  And  now  I  have  only  to  request  that  you  will  re- 
ceive Cleinias  and  me  among  your  pupils. 

Such  was  the  discussion,  Crito;  and  after  a  few  more  words 
had  passed  between  us  we  went  away.  I  hope  that  you  will 
come  to  them  with  me,  since  they  say  that  they  are  able  to 
teach  any  one  who  will  give  them  money,  however  old  or 
stupid.  And  one  thing  which  they  said  I  must  repeat  for  your 
especial  benefit, — that  not  even  the  business  of  making  money 
need  hinder  any  man  from  taking  in  their  wisdom  with  ease. 

Cri.  Truly,  Socrates,  though  I  am  curious  and  ready  to 
learn,  yet  I  fear  that  I  am  not  like-minded  with  Euthydemus, 
but  one  of  the  other  sort,  who,  as  you  were  saying,  would  rather 
be  refuted  by  such  arguments  than  use  them  in  refutation  of 
others.  And  though  I  may  appear  ridiculous  in  venturing  to 
advise  you,  I  think  that  you  may  as  well  hear  what  was  said  to 
me  by  a  man  of  very  considerable  pretensions — he  was  a  pro- 
fessor of  legal  oratory — who  came  away  from  you  while  I  was 
walking  up  and  down.  " Crito,"  said  he  to  me,  "are  you 
attending  to  these  wise  men  ?  "  "  No,  indeed,"  I  said  to  him; 
"  I  could  not  get  within  hearing  of  them,  there  was  such  a 
crowd."  "  You  would  have  heard  something  worth  hearing  if 
you  had."  "  What  was  that?  "  I  said.  "  You  would  have 
heard  the  greatest  masters  of  the  art  of  rhetoric  discoursing." 
"And  what  did  you  think  of  them?  "  I  said.  "  What  did  I 
think  of  them,"  he  said;  "  what  any  one  would  think  of  them 
who  heard  them  talking  nonsense,  and  making  much  ado  about 
nothing. ' '  That  was  the  expression  which  he  used.  ■ '  Surely, ' ' 
I  said,  "  philosophy  is  a  charming  thing."  "  Charming  !  "  he 
aa  Pindar  (pin'dar,  522-450  B.C.) :  greatest  of  Greek  lyric  poets. 


58  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

said;  "what  simplicity!  philosophy  is  nought;  and  I  think 
that  if  you  had  been  present  you  would  have  been  ashamed  of 
your  friend — his  conduct  was  so  very  strange  in  placing 
3  5  himself  at  the  mercy  of  men  who  care  not  what  they 
say,  and  fasten  upon  every  word.  And  these,  as  I  was  telling 
you,  are  supposed  to  be  the  most  eminent  professors  of  their 
time.  But  the  truth  is,  Crito,  that  the  study  and  the  men 
themselves  are  both  equally  mean  and  ridiculous."  Now  his 
censure  of  the  pursuit,  Socrates,  whether  coming  from  him  or 
from  others,  appears  to  me  to  be  undeserved;  but  as  to  the 
impropriety  of  holding  a  public  discussion  with  such  men,  I 
confess  that  I  thought  he  was  in  the  right  about  that. 

Soc.  O  Crito,  they  are  marvellous  men;  but  what  was  I 
going  to  say  ?  What  manner  of  man  was  he  who  came  up  to 
you  and  censured  philosophy;  was  he  an  orator  who  himself 
practises  in  the  courts,  or  an  instructor  of  orators,  who  makes 
the  speeches  with  which  they  do  battle  ? 

Cri.  He  was  certainly  not  an  orator,  and  I  doubt  whether 
he  had  ever  been  into  court ;  but  they  say  that  he  knows  the 
business,  and  is  a  clever  man,  and  composes  wonderful 
speeches. 

Soc.  Now  I  understand,  Crito;  he  is  one  of  an  amphibious 
class,  whom  I  was  on  the  point  of  mentioning — one  of  those 
whom  Prodicus  describes  as  on  the  border-ground  between 
philosophers  and  statesmen — they  think  that  they  are  the  wis- 
est of  all  men,  and  that  they  are  generally  esteemed  the  wisest; 
nothing  but  the  rivalry  of  the  philosophers  stands  in  their  way  ; 
and  they  are  of  the  opinion  that  if  they  can  prove  the  philoso- 
phers to  be  good  for  nothing,  no  one  will  dispute  their  title  to 
the  palm  of  wisdom,  for  that  they  are  really  the  wisest,  although 
they  are  apt  to  be  mauled  by  Euthydemus  and  his  friend,  when 
they  get  hold  of  them  in  conversation.  This  opinion  which 
they  entertain  of  their  own  wisdom  is  very  natural;  for  they 
have  a  certain  amount  of  philosophy,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
political  wisdom;  there  is  reason  in  what  they  say,  for  they 
argue  that  they  have  just  enough  of  both,  while  they  keep  out 
of  the  way  of  all  risks  and  conflicts  and  reap  the  fruits  of  their 
wisdom. 

Cri.  What  do  you  say  of  them,  Socrates?  There  is  cer- 
tainly something  specious  in  that  notion  of  theirs. 

Soc.  Yes,  Crito,  there  is  more  speciousness  than  truth;  they 


EUTHYDEMUS  59 

cannot  be  made  to  understand  the  nature  of  intermediates.  For 
all  persons  or  things,  which  are  intermediate  between  two 
other  things,  and  participant  of  them — if  one  of  these 
two  things  is  good  and  the  other  evil,  are  better  than  the 
one  and  worse  than  the  other ;  but  if  they  are  in  a  mean  be- 
tween two  good  things  which  do  not  tend  to  the  same  end,  they 
fall  short  of  either  of  their  component  elements  in  the  attain- 
ment of  their  ends.  Only  in  the  case  when  the  two  component 
elements  which  do  not  tend  to  the  same  end  are  evil  is  the 
participant  better  than  either.  Now  if  philosophy  and  political 
action  are  both  good,  but  tend  to  different  ends,  and  they  per- 
ticipate  in  both,  and  are  in  a  mean  between  them,  then  they 
are  talking  nonsense,  for  they  are  worse  than  either;  or,  if  the 
one  be  good  and  the  other  evil,  they  are  better  than  the  one 
and  worse  than  the  other;  only  on  the  supposition  that  they 
are  both  evil  could  there  be  any  truth  in  what  they  say.  I  do 
not  think  that  they  will  admit  that  their  two  pursuits  are 
either  wholly  or  partly  evil;  but  the  truth  is,  that  these  phi- 
losopher-politicians who  aim  at  both  fall  short  of  both  in  the 
attainment  of  their  respective  ends,  and  are  really  third,  al- 
though they  would  like  to  stand  first.  There  is  no  need,  how- 
ever, to  be  angry  at  this  ambition  of  theirs — they  may  be  for- 
given that;  for  every  man  ought  to  be  loved  who  says  and 
manfully  pursues  and  works  out  anything  which  is  at  all  like 
wisdom :  at  the  same  time  we  shall  do  well  to  see  them  as 
they  really  are. 

Cri.  I  have  often  told  you,  Socrates,  that  I  am  in  a  constant 
difficulty  about  my  two  sons.  What  am  I  to  do  with  them  ? 
There  is  no  hurry  about  the  younger  one,  who  is  only  a  child ; 
but  the  other,  Critobulus,  is  getting  on,  and  needs  some  one 
who  will  improve  him.  I  cannot  help  thinking,  when  I  hear 
you  talk,  that  there  is  a  sort  of  madness  in  many  of  our  anx- 
ieties about  our  children :  in  the  first  place,  about  marrying 
a  wife  of  good  family  to  be  the  mother  of  them,  and  then  about 
heaping  up  money  for  them — and  yet  taking  no  care  about 
their  education.  But  then  again,  when  I  contemplate  any  of 
those  who  pretend  to  educate  others,  I  am  amazed.  They 
all  seem  to  me  to  be  such  outrageous  beings,  if  I  am  to 
confess  the  truth :  so  that  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  advise  the 
youth  to  study  philosophy. 

Soc.  Dear  Crito,  do  you  not  know  that  in  every  profession 


60  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

the  inferior  sort  are  numerous  and  good  for  nothing,  and  the 
good  are  few  and  beyond  all  price:  for  example,  are  not  gym- 
nastic and  rhetoric  and  money- making  and  the  art  of  the  gen- 
eral, noble  arts  ? 

Cri.   Certainly  they  are,  in  my  judgment.  ' 

Soc.  Well,  and  do  you  not  see  that  in  each  of  these  arts  the 
many  are  ridiculous  performers? 

Cri.  Yes,  indeed,  that  is  very  true. 

Soc.  And  will  you  on  this  account  shun  all  these  pursuits 
yourself  and  refuse  to  allow  them  to  your  son  ? 

Cri.  That  would  not  be  reasonable,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Do  you  then  be  reasonable,  Crito,  and  do  not  mind 
whether  the  teachers  of  philosophy  are  good  or  bad,  but  think 
only  of  Philosophy  herself.  Try  and  examine  her  well  and 
truly,  and  if  she  be  evil  seek  to  turn  away  all  men  from  her, 
and  not  your  sons  only ;  but  if  she  be  what  I  believe  that  she 
is,  then  follow  her  and  serve  her,  you  and  your  house,  as  the 
saying  is,  and  be  of  good  cheer. 


PROTAGORAS 


TRODUCTION 


The  Euthydemus  shows  Socrates  in  contrast  with  the  baser 
sort  of  sophists ;  the  Protagoras  shows  him  in  contrast  with 
the  higher  sort.* 

The  points  of  contrast  between  the  philosopher  and  the 
Sophists  are,  however,  by  no  means  so  clear  in  the  latter 
dialogue.  A  fundamental  difficulty  in  the  interpretation  of 
this  dialogue  lies  in  the  fact  that  one  can  not  always  be  sure 
what  Plato's  own  opinion  is  about  the  views  expressed  by 
the  different  speakers.  Protagoras  and  his  fellow  Sophists 
are  made  to  speak  effectively,  sometimes  nobly.  Socrates 
is  sometimes  deeply  in  earnest,  sometimes  deeply  ironical. 
To  decide  just  what  Plato  himself  believes  on  every  question 
discussed  is  therefore  difficult  and  sometimes  impossible. 

The  dialogue  is  in  fact  deeply  dramatic.  The  Sophists 
here  portrayed  are  not  men  of  straw  labelled  with  opinions 
which  are  to  be  destroyed  in  the  conclusion.  These  men 
have  dramatic  if  not  also  historic  vitality.  They  are  ex- 
hibited as  scholars  and  gentlemen,  whose  views  are  at  any 
rate  worth  serious  attention.  (Consider  for  example  the 
views  of  Protagoras  on  the  treatment  of  animals,  on  the 
capacity  of  man  for  improvement  as  compared  with  the 
lower  animals,  and  on  the  influence  of  civilized  as  compared 
with  savage  life  upon  the  individual.)  The  main  contentions 
of  Protagoras*that  virtue  can  be  taught,  and  that  there  are 
*  S?l  General  Introduction,  pages  xviii,  xx,  and  xxvii. 
63 


64  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

many  distinct  virtues,  are  also  in  an  important  sense  true.  It 
may  even  seem  to  some  that  Protagoras  appears  to  advan- 
tage in  comparison  with  Socrates.  The  views  set  forth  by 
Socrates  are  strange,  paradoxical,  and  to  many  will  seem 
false.  That  virtue  can  not  be  taught,  that  the  virtues  are 
one  and  that  virtue  is  the  knowledge  of  the  pleasures  and 
pains  involved  in  action,  are  all  statements  which  are  likely  to 
meet  with  strong  denial.  Careful  study  will  serve  to  clear 
up  some  of  the  difficulties.  That  virtue  can  not  be  taught 
means  with  Socrates  that  virtue  can  not  be  brought  to  a  man 
but  must  be  born  in  him.  That  all  the  virtues  are  one 
means  with  him,  that  all  particular  forms  or  manifestations 
of  virtue,  such  as  those  we  call  courage,  temperance,  etc., 
spring  from  a  common  principle,  and  are  in  fact  one  in  idea. 
The  common  principle  to  which  all  the  virtues  are  reduced  is 
knowledge.  Virtue  can  therefore  be  taught, — not  indeed 
brought  to  one  from  without  but  awakened  in  one  by  proper 
influences.  The  view  that  virtue  is  knowledge  of  the  total 
pleasure  and  pain  involved  in  action  has  been  most  severely 
criticized.  Plato  modified  this  view  in  his  later  dialogues. 
He  continued  to  hold,  however,  that  the  purest  virtue  leads 
to  the  greatest  happiness  in  this  and  the  future  life. 

Taking  the  dialogue  as  a  whole,  one  may  see  that  Plato 
means  to  show  the  Sophists  at  their  best  and  then  to  show 
that  Socrates  was  superior  to  them  not  simply  with  their 
own  weapons,  but  in  a  far  higher  sense.  The  Sophists  have 
views  which  often  appear  excellent,  but  which  are  self-con- 
tradictory and  for  which  in  any  case  they  can  give  no  deep 
and  real  reason.  Socrates  wishes  to  judge  upon  the  ques- 
tions in  issue  from  the  stand -point  of  absolute  truth  as  re- 
vealed by  philosophy.  The  contrast  between  the  method  of 
the  Sophists  and  that  of  Socrates  is  as  significant  as  that  be- 
tween the  doctrines.  They  put  their  trust  in  rhetoric, — in 
the  forms  of  discourse  which  charm  and  persuade.    Socrates 


INTRODUCTION  65 

chooses  the  less  attractive  method  of  cross-examination,  with 
the  purpose  of  revealing  the  contradictions  involved  in  the 
fine  speeches  of  his  antagonists,  and  with  the  purpose  of  ar- 
riving at  positive  results  which  are  not  self-contradictory. 

While  the  Protagoras  is  a  brilliant  example  of  the  sort  of 
dispute  which,  without  doubt,  frequently  took  place  between 
Socrates  and  the  Sophists,  it  can  not  be  regarded  as  Plato's 
most  successful  presentation  of  his  own  point  of  view.  For 
the  most  complete  victory  of  the  philosopher  over  the  Soph- 
ist, in  regard  to  the  whole  theory  of  life,  one  must  look  to 
the  Republic. 

5 


^^V^J^SSm^ye  THE  dialogue.. 

Socrates,  who  is  the  narrator  of  Protagoras,  ) 

the  Dialogue  to  his  Companion.  Hippias,  V  Sophists. 

Hippocrates.  Prodicus,      ) 

Alcibiades.  Callias,  a  wealthy  Athenian. 
Critias. 

Scene  : — The  House  of  Callias. 

Com.   Where  do  you  come  from,  Socrates  ?     And  yet  I  need 
hardly  ask  the  question,  as  I  know  that  you  have  been 
in  chase  of  the  fair  Alcibiades.     I  saw  him  the  day  be-    Steph. 
fore  yesterday;  and  he  had  got  a  beard  like  a  man, — 
and  he  is  a  man,  as  I  may  tell  you  in   your  ear.     But  I 
thought  that  he  was  still  very  charming. 

1  Hippocrates  (hfp-pok'ra-tez)  :  comparatively  unknown  ;  not  mentioned 
elsewhere  by  Plato. 

Alcibiades  (al"si-bf'a-dez)  :  a  beautiful  and  wealthy  Athenian  of  great 
ability,  who  spent  himself  in  reckless  dissipation.  He  was  in  youth  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  Socrates,  who  saw  his  talent  and  sought,  though  without  suc- 
cess, to  win  him  from  vice  to  virtue.  See  Symposium,  212  and  following; 
Apology,  note  34. 

Protagoras  (pro-tag'o-ras)  :  a  celebrated  Sophist  from  Abdera  (ab-de'ra,  a 
city  of  Thrace  on  the  ^Egean)  celebrated  especially  for  his  skill  as  a  rhet- 
orician. He  was  the  first  philosopher  who  received  pay  for  teaching.  He 
was  very  popular  and  received  as  much  as  100  minae  ($1,600  to  $1,800)  from 
a  pupil.  He  was  more  serious  in  his  instruction  than  most  of  the  other  Soph- 
ists. 

Hippias  (hip'pi-as)  of  Elis  (a  city  of  Greece  about  one  hundred  and 
thirty  miles  west  of  Athens),  was  noted  for  his  remarkable  memory  and  gen- 
eral learning.  He  was  boastful  and  superficial.  Two  dialogues,  attributed 
to  Plato,  bear  his  name. 

Prodicus  (prodT-cus)  of  Ceos  (se'os,  an  island  in  the  ^Egean),  was  a  gram- 
marian, rhetorician,  and  orator.  The  expression  "wiser  than  Prodicus" 
became  a  proverb. 

Callias  (kal'li-as).     See  Apology,  note  9. 

Critias  (krit'i-as)  :  an  accomplished  Athenian  ;  in  youth,  a  disciple  of  Soo* 
rates,  later  the  chief  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants.     See  Apology,  note  34. 

67 


68  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Soc.  What  of  his  beard  ?  Are  you  not  of  Homer's  opinion, 
who  says  that — 

"  Youth  is  most  charming  when  the  beard  first  appears?  " 

And  that  is  now  the  charm  of  Alcibiades. 

Com.  Well,  and  how  do  matters  proceed  ?  Have  you  been 
visiting  him,  and  was  he  gracious  to  you  ? 

Soc.  Yes,  I  thought  that  he  was  very  gracious  ;  and  es- 
pecially to-day,  for  I  have  just  come  from  him,  and  he  has  been 
helping  me  in  an  argument.  But  shall  I  tell  you  a  strange 
thing  ?  Although  he  was  present,  I  never  attended  to  him,  and 
several  times  he  quite  passed  out  of  my  mind. 

Com.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  Has  anything  hap- 
pened between  you  and  him?  For  surely  you  cannot  have 
discovered  a  fairer  love2  than  he  is ;  certainly  not  in  this  city 
of  Athens. 

Soc.   Yes,  much  fairer. 

Com.  What  do  you  mean — a  citizen  or  a  foreigner? 

Soc.  A  foreigner. 

Com.   Of  what  country  ? 

Soc.  Of  Abdera. 

Com.  And  is  this  stranger  really  in  your  opinion  fairer  than 
the  son  of  Cleinias  ? 3 

Soc.  And  is  not  the  wiser  always  the  fairer,  sweet  friend  ? 

Com.  But  have  you  really  met,  Socrates,  with  some  wise 
one? 

Soc.  Yes ;  I  would  say  rather,  with  the  wisest  of  all  living 
men,  if  you  are  willing  to  accord  that  title  to  Protagoras. 

Com.  What  !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Protagoras  is  in 
Athens  ? 

Soc.  Yes ;  he  has  been  here  two  days. 

Com.   And  do  you  just  come  from  an  interview  with  him? 
Soc.   Yes ;  and  I  have  heard  and  said  many  things. 
Com.   Then,  if  you  have  no  engagement,  suppose  that 
you  sit  down  and  tell  me  what  passed,  and  my  attendant  shall 
give  up  his  place  to  you. 

Soc.  To  be  sure  ;  and  I  shall  be  grateful  to  you  for  listen- 
ing. 

Com.   Thank  you,  too,  for  telling  us. 

8  See  Phasdrus,  note  9.  3  Son  of  Cleinias  (kli'nf-as) :  Alcibiades. 


Protagoras  69 

Soc.  That  is  thank  you  twice  over.     Listen  then  : — 

Last  night,  or  rather  very  earlv  this  morning,  Hippocrates, 
the  son  of  Apollodorus  and  the  brother  of  Phason,4  gave  a  tre- 
mendous thump  with  his  staff  at  my  door  ;  some  one  opened  to 
him,  and  he  came  rushing  in  and  bawled  out :  Socrates,  are 
you  awake  or  asleep  ? 

I  knew  his  voice,  and  said  :  Hippocrates,  is  that  you  ?  and 
do  you  bring  any  news  ? 

Good  news,  he  said  ;  nothing  but  good. 

Very  good,  I  said  ;  but  what  news  ?  and  why  have  you 
come  here  at  this  unearthly  hour  ? 

He  drew  nearer  to  me  and  said  :   Protagoras  is  come. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  he  came  two  days  ago  ;  have  you  only  just 
heard  of  his  arrival  ? 

Yes,  indeed,  he  said  ;  I  heard  yesterday  evening. 

At  the  same  time  he  felt  for  the  truckle-bed,  and  sat  down 
at  my  feet,  and  then  he  said  :  I  heard  yesterday  quite  late  in 
the  evening,  on  my  return  from  CEenoe5  whither  I  had  gone  in 
pursuit  of  my  runaway  slave  Satyrus 6 — as  I  was  going  to  have 
told  you  if  some  other  matter  had  not  come  in  the  way ;  on 
my  return,  when  we  had  done  supper  and  were  about  to  retire 
to  rest,  my  brother  said  to  me  :  Protagoras  is  come.  And  I 
was  going  to  you  at  once,  if  I  had  not  considered  that  the 
night  was  far  spent.  But  when  sleep  relaxed  her  hold  on  me 
after  my  toil,  I  got  up  and  came  hither  direct. 

I,  who  knew  the  very  courageous  madness  of  the  man,  said: 
What  is  the  matter?  has  Protagoras  robbed  you  of  anything? 

He  replied,  laughing:  Yes,  indeed  he  has,  Socrates,  of  the 
wisdom  which  he  keeps  to  himself. 

But,  surely,  I  said,  if  you  give  him  money,  and  make 
friends  with  him,  he  will  make  you  as  wise  as  he  is  himself. 

Would  to  heaven,  he  replied,  that  he  would  !  He  might 
take  all  that  I  have,  and  all  that  my  friends  have,  if  he  would. 
And  that  is  why  I  have  come  to  you  now,  in  order  that  you 
may  speak  to  him  on  my  behalf;  for  I  am  young,  and 
also  I  have  never  seen  nor  heard  him  (when  he  visited 
Athens  before  I  was  but  a  child) ;  and  all  men  praise  him,  Soc- 
rates, as  being  the  most  accomplished  of  speakers.  There  is  no 
4  Apollodorus  (a-pol'lo-do'rus)  ;  Phason  (fa'son)  :  neither  one  mentioned  in 
other  dialogues  of  Plato. 

6  CEnoe  (en-6'e)  :  a  deme  of  Attica.     See  Apology,  note  36. 
8  Satyrus  (s3t'y-rus). 


70  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

reason  why  we  should  not  go  to  him  at  once,  and  then  we 
shall  find  him  at  home.  He  lodges,  as  I  hear,  with  Callias, 
the  son  of  Hipponicns.7     Let  us  start. 

I  replied  :  Not  yet,  my  good  friend ;  the  hour  is  too  early. 
But  let  us  rise  and  take  a  turn  in  the  court  and  wait  there  un- 
til daybreak,  and  when  the  day  breaks,  then  we  will  go ;  for 
Protagoras  is  generally  at  home,  and  we  shall  be  sure  to  find 
him  j   never  fear. 

Upon  this  we  got  up  and  walked  about  in  the  court,  and  I 
thought  that  I  would  make  trial  of  the  strength  of  his  resolu- 
tion. So  I  examined  him  and  put  questions  to  him.  Tell  me, 
Hippocrates,  I  said,  as  you  are  going  to  Protagoras,  and  will 
be  paying  your  money  to  him,  what  is  he  to  whom  you  are 
going  ?  and  what  will  he  make  of  you  ?  If  you  were  going  to 
Hippocrates,  the  Coan,  the  Asclepiad,8  and  were  about  to  give 
him  your  money,  and  some  one  said  to  you  :  As  being  what, 
do  you  give  money  to  your  namesake  Hippocrates,  O  Hippo- 
crates ?  what  would  you  answer  ? 

I  should  say,  he  replied,  that  I  give  money  to  him  as  a 
physician. 

And  what  will  he  make  of  you  ? 

A  physician,  he  said. 

And  if  you  went  to  Polycleitus9  the  Argive,  or  Phidias10 
the  Athenian,  and  intended  to  give  them  money,  and  some 
one  were  to  ask  you :  As  being  what,  do  you  give  this  money 
to  Polycleitus  and  Phidias?  what  would  you  answer? 

I  should  answer,  as  being  statuaries. 

And  what  will  they  make  of  you  ? 

A  statuary,  of  course. 

Well  now,  I  said,  you  and  I  are  going  to  Protagoras,  and 
we  are  ready  to  pay  him  money  for  you.     If  our  own  means 

7  Hipponicus  (hip'p5-ni'cus). 

8  Hippocrates  (hfp-pok'ra-tez,  460-377  B.C.):  a  famous  Greek  physician, 
born  in  Cos,  an  island  of  the  iEgean.  He  belonged  to  the  race  of  the  As- 
clepiadai  (as'kle-pl'a  de)  so  called  because  supposed  to  be  descendants  of 
Asclepius  (as-kle'pf-us)  or  .-Esculapius  (es'ku-la'pf-us),  god  of  medicine.  This 
family  were  an  order  of  priests  who  regarded  the  knowledge  of  medicine  as 
a  secret  which  they  handed  down  from  father  to  son. 

9  Polycleitus  (pSl'y-kli'tus,  5th  century  B.C.):  a  noted  Greek  sculptor  who 
contributed  much  to  the  development  of  Greek  art  ;  a  native  of  Argos,  a 
city  of  Greece  about  sixty  miles  southwest  of  Athens. 

10  Phidias  (fid'i-as  490 7-432?  B.C.)  :  the  greatest  sculptor  and  statuary  of 
Greece.  His  works  were  the  glory  of  Greece,  and  have  never  been  sur- 
passed. 


PROTAGORAS  J\ 

are  sufficient,  and  we  can  gain  him  with  these,  we  shall  be  too 
glad  j  but  if  not,  then  we  are  to  spend  your  friends'  money  as 
well.  Now  suppose,  that  while  we  are  in  this  intense  state  of 
excitement,  some  one  were  to  say  to  us :  Tell  me,  Socrates, 
and  you  Hippocrates,  as  being  what,  are  you  going  to  pay 
money  to  Protagoras  ?  how  should  we  answer  him  ?  I  know 
that  Phidias  is  a  sculptor,  and  Homer  is  a  poet ;  but  what 
appellation  is  given  to  Protagoras?  how  is  he  designated? 

They  call  him  a  Sophist,  Socrates,  he  replied. 

Then  we  are  going  to  pay  our  money  to  him  in  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Sophist  ? 

Certainly. 

But  suppose  a  person  were  to  ask  this  further  question  : 

And  how  about  yourself?  what  will  Protagoras  make  you  if 
you  go  to  see  him  ? 

He  answered,  with  a  blush  upon  his  face  (for  the  day 
was  just  beginning  to  dawn,  so  that  I  could  see  him)  :  Unless 
this  differs  in  some  way  from  the  former  instances,  I  suppose 
that  he  will  make  a  Sophist  of  me. 

And  are  you  not  in  sober  earnest  ashamed,  I  said,  at  having 
to  appear  before  the  Hellenes11  in  the  character  of  a  Sophist? 

Indeed,  Socrates,  if  I  am  to  confess  the  truth,  I  am. 

But  why  do  you  assume,  Hippocrates,  that  the  instruction 
of  Protagoras  is  of  this  nature  ?  and  why  may  you  not  learn 
of  him  in  the  same  way  that  you  learned  the  arts  of  the  gram- 
marian, or  musician,  or  trainer,12  not  with  the  view  of  making 
any  of  them  a  profession,  but  only  as  a  part  of  education,  and 
because  a  private  gentleman  and  freeman  ought  to  know 
them? 

Just  so,  he  said  ;  and  that,  in  my  opinion,  is  a  far  truer  ac- 
count of  the  teaching  of  Protagoras. 

I  said  :  I  wonder  whether  you  know  what  you  are  doing? 

And  what  am  I  doing  ? 

You  are  going  to  commit  your  soul  to  the  care  of  a  man 
whom  you  call  a  Sophist.     And  yet  I  hardly  think  that  you 

M  Hellenes  (hel-le'nez)  :  In  very  ancient  times  the  name  Hellas  (heHas) 
was  applied  to  a  small  district  in  northern  Greece  and  the  name  Hellenes  to 
the  people  of  that  district.  In  the  course  of  time  the  application  of  these 
terms  was  gradually  extended  until  in  Plato's  day  all  Greek  people  were 
called  Hellenes  and  all  countries  inhabited  by  them  were  included  under 
the  name  Hellas. 

12  Teacher  of  gymnastics. 


J2  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

know  what  a  Sophist  is,  and  if  not,  then  you  do  not  even 
know  whether  you  are  committing  your  soul  to  good  or  evil. 

I  certainly  think  that  I  do  know,  he  replied. 

Then  tell  me,  what  do  you  imagine  that  he  is? 

I  take  him  to  be  one  who  is  wise  and  knowing,  he  replied, 
as  his  name  implies.13 

And  might  you  not,  I  said,  affirm  this  of  the  painter  and 
the  carpenter  also  ;  are  not  they,  too,  wise  and  knowing  ? 
But  suppose  a  person  were  to  ask  us  :  In  what  are  the  paint- 
ers wise  ?  We  should  answer  :  In  what  relates  to  the  making 
of  likenessess,  and  similarly  of  other  things.  And  if  he  were 
further  to  ask  :  What  is  the  wisdom  of  the  Sophist,  and  what 
is  the  manufacture  over  which  he  presides  ?  how  should  we 
answer  him  ? 

How  should  we  answer  him,  Socrates  ?  What  other  answer 
could  there  be  but  that  he  presides  over  the  art  which  makes 
men  eloquent  ? 

Yes,  I  replied,  that  is  very  likely  a  true,  but  not  a  suffi- 
cient answer  ;  for  a  further  question  is  involved  :  About  what 
does  the  Sophist  make  a  man  eloquent  ?  The  player  on  the 
lyre  may  be  supposed  to  make  a  man  eloquent  about  that 
which  he  makes  him  understand,  that  is  about  playing  the 
lyre.     Is  not  that  true  ? 

Yes. 

Then  about  what  does  the  Sophist  make  him  eloquent  ? 
must  not  he  make  him  eloquent  in  that  which  he  understands  ? 

Yes,  that  may  be  assumed. 

And  what  is  that  which  the  Sophist  knows  and  makes  his 
disciple  know  ? 

Indeed,  he  said,  that  I  cannot  tell. 

Then  I  proceeded  to  say  :  Well,  but  are  you  aware  of  the 
danger  which  you  are  incurring?  If  you  were  going  to  com- 
mit the  body  to  some  one,  and  there  was  a  risk  of  your 
getting  good  or  harm  from  him,  would  you  not  carefully 
consider  and  ask  the  opinion  of  your  friends  and  kindred, 
and  deliberate  many  days  as  to  whether  you  should  give 
him  the  care  of  your  body?  But  when  the  soul  is  in  question, 
which  you  hold  to  be  of  far  more  value  than  the  body,  and 
upon  the  well  or  ill-being  of  which  depends  your  all, — about 
this  you  never  consulted  either  with  your  father  or  with  your 
13  The  term  Sophist  is  derived  from  the  Greek  word  sophos,  wise. 


PROTAGORAS  73 

brother  or  with  any  one  of  us  who  are  your  companions.  But 
no  sooner  does  this  foreigner  appear,  than  you  instantly  com- 
mit your  soul  to  his  keeping.  In  the  evening,  as  you  say,  you 
hear  of  him,  and  in  the  morning  you  go  to  him,  never  delib- 
erating, or  taking  the  opinion  of  any  one  as  to  whether  you 
ought  to  intrust  yourself  to  him  or  not ;  you  have  quite  made 
up  your  mind  that  you  will  be  a  pupil  of  Protagoras,  and  are 
prepared  to  expend  all  the  property  of  yourself  and  of  your 
friends  in  carrying  out  at  any  price  this  determination,  al- 
though, as  you  admit,  you  do  not  know  him,  and  have  never 
spoken  with  him  :  and  you  call  him  a  Sophist,  but  are  mani- 
festly ignorant  of  what  a  Sophist  is  j  and  yet  you  are  going  to 
commit  yourself  to  his  keeping. 

When  he  heard  me  say  this  he  replied  :  That  I  suppose,  So- 
crates, is  the  conclusion  which  I  must  draw  from  your  words. 

I  proceeded  :  Is  not  a  Sophist,  Hippocrates,  one  who  deals 
wholesale  or  retail  in  the  food  of  the  soul  ?  To  me  that  ap- 
pears to  be  the  sort  of  man. 

And  what,  Socrates,  is  the  food  of  the  soul  ? 

Surely,  I  said,  knowledge  is  the  food  of  the  soul ;  and  we 
must  take  care,  my  friend,  that  the  Sophist  does  not  deceive 
us  when  he  praises  what  he  sells,  like  the  dealers  wholesale  or 
retail  who  sell  the  food  of  the  body  ;  for  they  praise  indis- 
criminately all  their  goods,  without  knowing  what  are  really 
beneficial  or  hurtful :  neither  do  their  customers  know,  with 
the  exception  of  any  trainer  or  physician  who  may  happen  to 
buy  of  them.  In  like  manner  those  who  carry  about  the 
wares  of  knowledge,  and  make  the  round  of  the  cities,  and 
sell  or  retail  them  to  any  customer  who  is  in  want  of  them, 
praise  them  all  alike  ;  and  I  should  not  wonder,  O  my  friend, 
if  many  of  them  were  really  ignorant  of  their  effect  upon  the 
soul  j  and  their  customers  equally  ignorant,  unless  he  who 
buys  of  them  happens  to  be  a  physician  of  the  soul.  If  there- 
fore you  have  understanding  of  what  is  good  and  evil,  you 
may  safely  buy  knowledge  of  Protagoras  or  of  any  one ;  but 
if  not,  then,  O  my  friend,  pause,  and  do  not  hazard 
your  dearest  interests  at  a  game  of  chance.  For  there  is 
far  greater  peril  in  buying  knowledge  than  in  buying  meat  and 
drink  :  the  one  you  purchase  of  the  wholesale  or  retail  dealer, 
and  carry  them  away  in  other  vessels,  and  before  you  receive 
them  into  the  body  as  food,   you  may  deposit  them  at  home 


74  FLATO   THE   TEACHER 

and  call  in  any  experienced  friend  who  knows  what  is  good  to 
be  eaten  or  drunken,  and  what  not,  and  how  much  and  when ; 
and  hence  the  danger  of  purchasing  them  is  not  so  great.  But 
when  you  buy  the  wares  of  knowledge  you  cannot  carry  them 
away  in  another  vessel;  they  have  been  sold  to  you,  and  you 
must  take  them  into  the  soul  and  go  your  way,  either  greatly 
harmed  or  greatly  benefited  by  the  lesson  :  and  therefore  we 
should  think  about  this  and  take  counsel  with  our  elders  ;  for 
we  are  still  young — too  young  to  determine  such  a  matter. 
And  now  let  us  go,  as  we  were  intending,  and  hear  Protago- 
ras ;  and  when  we  have  heard  what  he  has  to  say,  we  may 
take  counsel  of  others  ;  for  not  only  is  Protagoras  at  the 
house  of  Callias,  but  there  is  Hippias  of  Elis,  and,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  Prodicus  of  Ceos,  and  several  other  wise  men. 

To  this  we  agreed,  and  proceeded  on  our  way  until  we 
reached  the  vestibule  of  the  house ;  and  there  we  stopped  in 
order  to  finish  a  dispute  which  had  arisen  as  we  were  going 
along;  and  we  stood  talking  in  the  vestibule  until  we  had  fin- 
ished and  come  to  an  understanding.  And  I  think  that  the 
door-keeper,  who  was  a  eunuch,  and  who  was  probably  an- 
noyed at  the  great  inroad  of  the  Sophists,  must  have  heard 
us  talking.  At  any  rate,  when  we  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
he  opened  and  saw  us,  he  grumbled  :  They  are  Sophists — 
he  is  not  at  home ;  and  instantly  gave  the  door  a  hearty  bang 
with  both  his  hands.  Again  we  knocked,  and  he  answered 
without  opening :  Did  you  not  hear  me  say  that  he  was  not 
at  home,  fellows?  But,  my  friend,  I  said,  we  are  not  Soph- 
ists, and  we  are  not  come  to  see  Callias  ;  fear  not,  for  we  want 
to  see  Protagoras  ;  and  I  must  request  you  to  announce  us. 
At  last,  after  a  good  deal  of  difficulty,  the  man  was  persuaded 
to  open  the  door. 

When  we  entered,  we  found  Protagoras  taking  a  walk  in  the 
portico ;  14  and  next  to  him,  on  one  side,  were  walking  Callias 
the  son  of  Hipponicus,  and  Paralus  15  the  son  of  Pericles,  who, 

14  The  better  Athenian  houses  were  built  around  an  inner  open  court  sur- 
rounded by  a  kind  of  portico. 

15  Paralus  (par'a-lus)  ;  Pericles  (per'i-klez)  ;  Charmides  (kar'mi-dez) ; 
Glaucon  (glau'kon) ;  Xanthippus  (zan-tip'pus)  ;  Philippides  (fl-lip'pi-dez)  ; 
Philomelus  (fil'o-me'lus)  ;  Antimoerus  (an'tf-me'rus)  ;  Mende  (men'de). 
These  Greeks,  who  are  all  doubtless  historical  personages,  are  of  no  impor- 
tance in  this  dialogue  except  to  show  the  class  of  persons  whom  the  Sophists 
gathered  about  them.  Most  of  them  are  known  to  have  belonged  to  wealthy 
aristocratic  families. 


PROTAGORAS  75 

by  the  mother's  side,  is  his  half-brother,  and  Charmides  the 
son  of  Glaucon.  On  the  other  side  of  him  were  Xanthippus 
the  other  son  of  Pericles,  Philippides  the  son  of  Philo- 
melus  ;  also  Antimoerus  of  Mende,  who  of  all  the  dis-  3'5 
ciples  of  Protagoras  is  the  most  famous,  and  intends  to  make 
sophistry  his  profession.  A  train  of  listeners  followed  him,  of 
whom  the  greater  part  appeared  to  be  foreigners,  who  ac- 
companied Protagoras  out  of  the  various  cities  through  which 
he  journeyed.  Now  he,  like  Orpheus,16  attracted  them  by  his 
voice,  and  they  followed  the  attraction.  I  should  mention 
also  that  there  were  some  Athenians  in  the  company.  Noth- 
ing delighted  me  more  than  the  precision  of  their  movements  : 
they  never  got  into  his  way  at  all,  but  when  he  and  those  who 
were  with  him  turned  back,  then  the  band  of  listeners  divided 
into  two  parts  on  either  side  ;  he  was  always  in  front,  and 
they  wheeled  round  and  took  their  places  behind  him  in  per- 
fect order. 

After  him,  as  Homer  says,17  "  I  lifted  up  my  eyes  and  saw  " 
Hippias  the  Elean  sitting  in  the  opposite  portico  on  a  chair 
of  state,  and  around  him  were  seated  on  benches  Eryximachus 18 
the  son  of  Acumenus,  and  Phaedrus 19  the  Myrrhinusian,  and 
Andron 20  the  son  of  Androtion,  and  there  were  strangers 
whom  he  had  brought  with  him  from  his  native  city  of  Elis, 
and  some  others  :  they  appeared  to  be  asking  Hippias  certain 
physical  and  astronomical  questions,  and  he,  ex  cathedra, 21 
was  determining  their  several  questions  to  them  and  discours- 
ing of  them. 

Also,  "  my  eyes  beheld  Tantalus"  ;  for  Prodicus  the  Caen 
was  at  Athens :  he  had  been  put  into  a  room  which,  in  the 
days  of  Hipponicus,  was  a  storehouse ;  but  as  the  house  was 
full,  Callias  had  cleared  this  out  and  made  the  room  into  a 

58  The  mythical  musician  and  poet,  celebrated  especially  for  his  lyre  play- 
ing, which  so  enchanted  even  the  trees  and  rocks  that  they  followed  him. 

17  By  this  and  the  following  quotation  from  Homer's  Odyssey,  Socrates 
wittily  represents  himself  as  like  Odysseus,  wandering  through  the  lower 
world,  and  seeing  one  after  another,  the  celebrPted  personages  there. 

18  Eryximachus  (er'yx-im'a-kus)  and  Acumenus  (a-ku'me-nus)  were  both 
learned  physicians.  Both  are  mentioned  in  Phoedrus,  268,  and  the  former  in 
Symposium,  176,  and  following. 

19  See  the  dialogue  Phaedrus.  note  1  ;  he  is  a  speaker  in  the  Symposium. 
Myrrhinus  (myr'ri-nus)  :  a  deme  of  Attica. 

20  Andron  (an'dron) ;  Androtion  (an-dro'shl-on). 

21  Ex  cathedra  (klth'e  dra)  :  Literally,  from  the  chair;  figuratively,  with 
autht  rity.     Probably  both  meanings  were  intended  here. 


76  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

guest-chamber.  Now  Prodicus  was  still  in  bed,  wrapped  up 
in  sheepskins  and  bedclothes,  of  which  there  seemed  to  be  a 
great  heap ;  and  there  were  sitting  by  him  on  the  couches 
near,  Pausanias  of  the  deme  of  Cerameis,22  and  with  Pausanias 
was  a  youth  quite  young,  who  is  certainly  remarkable  for  his 
good  looks,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  is  also  of  a  fair  and  gentle 
nature.  I  think  that  I  heard  him  called  Agathon,23  and  my 
suspicion  is  that  he  is  the  beloved  of  Pausanias.  There  was 
this  youth  and  also  there  were  the  two  Adeimantuses,24  one 
the  son  of  Cepis,  and  the  other  of  Leucolophides,  and  some 
others.  I  was  very  anxious  to  hear  what  Prodicus  was  saying, 
for  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  extraordinarily  wise  and  divine 

,  man ;  but  I  was  not  able  to  get  into  the  inner  circle, 
and  his  fine  deep  voice  made  an  echo  in  the  room  which 
rendered  his  words  inaudible. 

No  sooner  had  we  entered  than  there  followed  us  Alcibiades 
the  beautiful,  as  you  say,  and  I  believe  you ;  and  also  Critias 
the  son  of  Callaeschrus.25 

On  entering  we  stopped  a  little,  in  order  to  look  about  us, 
and  then  walked  up  to  Protagoras,  and  I  said  :  Protagoras, 
my  friend  Hippocrates  and  I  have  come  to  see  you. 

Do  you  wish,  he  said,  to  speak  with  me  alone,  or  in  the 
presence  of  others  ? 

That  is  as  you  please,  I  said  :  you  shall  determine  when  you 
have  heard  the  object  of  our  visit. 

And  what  is  that  ?  he  said. 

I  must  explain,  I  said,  that  my  friend  Hippocrates  is  a  na- 
tive Athenian ;  he  is  the  son  of  Apollodorus,  and  of  a  great 
and  prosperous  house,  and  he  is  himself  in  natural  ability  quite 
a  match  for  those  of  his  own  age.  I  believe  that  he  aspires  to 
political  eminence;  and  this  he  thinks  that  conversation  with 
you  is  most  likely  to  procure  for  him  :  now  it  is  for  you  to  de- 
cide whether  you  would  wish  to  speak  to  him  of  these  matters 
alone  or  in  company. 

Thank  you,  Socrates,  for  your  consideration  of  me.  For 
certainly  a  stranger  finding  his  way  into  great  cities,  and  per- 
suading the  flower  of  the  youth  in  them  to  leave  the  company 

22  Pausanias  (paw-sa'm-us) :  speaker  in  Symposium.  Cerameis  (ser'a-mis). 

23  See  Symposium,  note  i. 

24  Adeimantus  (ad'i-man'tus)  ;  Cepis  (se'pis)  ;  Leucolophides  (lu'ko-lof'i- 
dez). 

23  Callaeschrus  (kal-les'krus). 


PROTAGORAS  TJ 

of  their  other  kinsmen  or  acquaintance,  and  live  with  him,  un- 
der the  idea  that  they  will  be  improved  by  his  conversation, 
ought  to  be  very  cautious ;  great  jealousies  are  occasioned  by 
his  proceedings,  and  he  is  the  subject  of  many  enmities  and 
conspiracies.  I  maintain  the  art  of  the  Sophist  to  be  of  an- 
cient date ;  but  that  in  ancient  times  the  professors  of  the  art, 
fearing  this  odium,  veiled  and  disguised  themselver  under  va- 
rious names  :  some  under  that  of  poets,  as  Homer,  Hesiod,  and 
Simonides26 ;  some  as  hierophants 27  and  prophets,  as  Orpheus 
and  Musseus ;  m  and  some,  as  I  observe,  even  under  the  name 
of  gymnastic  masters,  like  Iccus29  of  Tarentum,  or  the  more 
recently  celebrated  Herodicus,  now  of  Selymbria  and  former- 
ly of  Megara, 30  who  is  a  first-rate  Sophist.  Your  own  Aga- 
thocles  31  pretended  to  be  a  musician,  but  was  really  an  emi- 
nent Sophist ;  also  Pythocleides  32  the  Cean  ;  and  there  were 
many  others ;  and  all  of  them,  as  I  was  saying,  adopted  these 
arts  as  veils  or  disguises  because  they  were  afraid  of  the  envy 
of  the  multitude.  But  that  is  not  my  way,  for  I  do  not 
believe  that  they  effected  their  purpose,  which  was  to 
deceive  the  government,  who  were  not  blinded  by  them ;  and 
as  to  the  people,  they  have  no  understanding,  and  only  repeat 
what  their  rulers  are  pleased  to  tell  them.  Now  to  run  away, 
and  to  be  caught  in  running  away,  is  the  very  height  of  folly, 
and  also  greatly  increases  the  exasperation  of  mankind;  for 
they  regard  him  who  runs  away  as  a  rogue,  in  addition  to  any 
other  objections  which  they  have  to  him  ;  and  therefore  I 
take  an  entirely  opposite  course,  and  acknowledge  myself  to 
be  a  Sophist  and  instructor  of  mankind  j  such  an  open  ac- 

26  For  Homer  and  Hesiod  see  Apology,  notes  39  and  53.  Simonides  (si- 
mon'f-dez,  556-467  B.C.),  of  Ceos  :  a  celebrated  Greek  lyric  poet. 

27  Priests  who  taught  to  initiates  the  mysteries  and  duties  of  certain  secret 
religious  ceremonies. 

28  See  Apology,  notes  51  and  52.  Orpheus  was  said  to  have  taught  the 
doctrine  of  immortality  and  to  have  been  the  first  to  use  divination  and  rites 
for  expiation  from  sin.  To  Musaeus  was  attributed  a  collection  of  oracles, 
hymns,  and  chants  of  dedication  and  purification. 

29  Iccus  [(ik'kus)  of  Tarentum  (t^-ren'turn),  a  Greek  town  in  southern 
Italy]  :  a  philosopher  and  celebrated  gymnast.  He  won  the  prize  in  the 
national  games.     He  taught  that  gymnastic  training  produced  temperance. 

30  Herodicus  (he-rod'i-kus)  :  a  Thracian  physician,  one  of  the  first  to  in- 
sist upon  the  importance  of  exercise  for  health.  Selymbria  (se-lym'bn-a)  ;  a 
town  of  Thrace  on  the  Proponiis.  Megara  (meg'a-ra)  :  a  city  of  Greece 
about  twenty  miles  west  of  Athens. 

31  Agathocles  (a-gath'o-klez). 

32  Pythocleides  (p^th'o-kli'dez). 


78  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

knowledgment  appears  to  me  to  be  a  better  sort  of  caution 
than  concealment.  Nor  do  I  neglect  other  precautions,  and 
therefore  I  hope,  as  I  may  say,  by  the  favor  of  Heaven  that 
no  harm  will  come  of  the  acknowledgment  that  I  am  a  Soph- 
ist. And  I  have  been  now  many  years  in  the  profession-- 
for  all  my  years  when  added  up  are  many — and  there  is  no 
one  here.present  of  whom  I  might  not  be  the  father.  Where- 
fore I  should  much  prefer  conversing  with  you,  if  you  do  not 
object,  in  the  presence  of  the  company. 

As  I  suspected  that  he  would  like  to  have  a  little  display 
and  glory  in  the  presence  of  Prodi cus  and  Hippias,  and  would 
gladly  show  us  to  them  in  the  light  of  his  admirers,  I  said  : 
But  why  should  we  not  summon  Prodicus  and  Hippias  and 
their  friends  to  hear  us  ? 

Very  good,  he  said. 

Suppose,  said  Callias,  that  we  hold  a  council  in  which  you 
may  sit  and  discuss.  This  was  determined,  and  great  delight 
was  felt  at  the  prospect  of  hearing  wise  men  talk ;  we  ourselves 
all  took  the  chairs  and  benches,  and  arranged  them  by  Hippias, 
where  the  other  benches  had  been  already  placed.  Mean- 
while Callias  and  Alcibiades  got  up  Prodicus  and  brought  in 
him  and  his  companions. 

When  we  were  all  seated,  Protagoras  said :  Nowr  that  the 
company  are  assembled,   Socrates,  tell  me  about  the  young 

£     man  of  whom  you  were  just  now  speaking. 

I  replied  :  I  will  begin  again  at  the  same  point,  Pro- 
tagoras, and  tell  you  once  more  the  purport  of  my  visit :  this 
is  my  friend  Hippocrates,  who  is  desirous  of  making  your  ac- 
quaintance ;  he  wants  to  know  what  will  happen  to  him  if  he 
associates  with  you.     That  is  all  I  have  to  say. 

Protagoras  answered  :  Young  man,  if  you  associate  with 
me,  on  the  very  first  day  you  will  return  home  a  better  man 
than  you  came,  and  better  on  the  second  day  than  on  the 
first,  and  better  every  day  than  you  were  on  the  day  before. 

When  I  heard  this,  I  said  :  Protagoras,  I  do  not  at  all 
wronder  at  hearing  you  say  this ;  even  at  your  age,  and  with 
all  your  wisdom,  if  any  one  were  to  teach  you  what  you  did 
not  know  before,  you  would  become  better  no  doubt  :  but 
please  to  answer  in  a  different  way ;  I  will  explain  how  by  an 
example.  Let  me  suppose  that  Hippocrates,  instead  of  de- 
siring your  acquaintance,  wished  to  become  acquainted  with 


PROTAGORAS  79 

the  young  man  Zeuxippus  of  Heraclea,33  who  has  newly  come 
to  Athens,  and  he  were  to  go  to  him  as  he  has  gone  to  you, 
and  were  to  hear  him  say,  as  he  has  heard  you  say,  that  every 
day  he  would  grow  and  become  better  if  he  associated  with 
him  :  and  then  suppose  that  he  were  to  ask  him,  "  In  what 
would  he  be  better,  and  in  what  would  he  grow  ?  "  Zeuxip- 
pus would  answer,  "In  painting."  And  suppose  that  he 
went  to  Orthagoras  the  Theban,34and  heard  him  say  the  same, 
and  asked  him,  "In  what  would  he  become  better  day  by 
day?"  he  would  reply,  "In  flute-playing."  Now  I  want 
you  to  make  the  same  sort  of  answer  to  this  young  man  and 
to  me,  who  am  asking  questions  on  his  account.  When  you 
say  that  on  the  first  day  on  which  he  associates  with  you  he 
will  return  home  a  better  man,  and  on  every  day  will  grow  in 
like  manner — in  what,  Protagoras,  will  he  be  better?  and 
about  what? 

When  Protagoras  heard  me  say  this,  he  replied  :  You  ask 
questions  fairly,  and  I  like  to  answer  a  question  which  is  fairly 
put.  If  Hippocrates  comes  to  me  he  will  not  experience  the 
sort  of  drudgery  with  which  other  Sophists  are  in  the  habit  of 
insulting  their  pupils  ;  who,  when  they  have  just  escaped  from 
the  arts,  are  taken  and  driven  back  into  them  by  these  teach- 
ers, and  made  to  learn  calculation,  and  astronomy,  and  geom- 
etry, and  music  (he  gave  a  look  at  Hippias  as  he  said  this)  ; 
but  if  he  comes  to  me,  he  will  learn  that  which  he  comes  to 
learn.  And  this  is  prudence  in  affairs  private  as  well  as  pub- 
lic ;  he  will  learn  to  order  his  own  house  in  the  best  manner, 
and  he  will  be  best  able  to  speak  and  act  in  the  affairs  of  the 
State. 

Do  I  understand  you,  I  said ;  and  is  your  meaning  that 
you  teach  the  art  of  politics,  and  that  you  promise  to  « 
make  men  good  citizens  ? 

That,  Socrates,  is  exactly  the  profession  which  I  make. 

Then,  I  said,  you  do  indeed  possess  a  noble  art,  if  there  is  no 
mistake  about  this  ;  for  I  will  freely  confess  to  you,  Protagoras, 
that  I  have  a  doubt  whether  this  art  is  capable  of  being  taught, 
and  yet  I  know  not  how  to  disbelieve  your  assertion.     And  I 

33  Zeuxippus  (zQks-ip'pus)  or  Zeuxis  (zuks'is)  ( 400  B.C.) :  a  celebrated 

Greek  painter,  a  native  of  Heraclea  (her'a-kle'a) ,  a  town  in  southern  Italy. 

3i  Orthagoras  (6r-thag'o-ras) ;  Thebes  (thebz) :  a  city  of  Greece  in  Boeo- 
tia,  about  thirty-five  miles  northwest  of  Athens.  The  Thebans  were  cele- 
brated flute  players. 


So  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

ought  to  tell  you  why  I  am  of  opinion  that  this  art  cannot  be 
taught  or  communicated  by  man  to  man.  I  say  that  the 
Athenians  are  an  understanding  people,  as  indeed  they  are  es- 
teemed by  the  other  Hellenes.  Now  I  observe  that  when  we 
are  met  together  in  the  Assembly,35  and  the  matter  in  hand  re- 
lates to  building,  the  builders  are  summoned  as  advisers;  when 
the  question  is  one  of  ship-building,  then  the  ship-builders ; 
and  the  like  of  other  arts  which  they  think  capable  of  being 
taught  and  learned.  And  if  some  person  offers  to  give  them 
advice  who  is  not  supposed  by  them  to  have  any  skill  in  the 
art,  even  though  he  be  good-looking,  and  rich,  and  noble, 
they  don't  listen  to  him,  but  laugh  at  him,  and  hoot  him, 
until  either  he  is  clamored  down  and  retires  of  himself;  or  if 
he  persists,  he  is  dragged  away  or  put  out  by  the  constables  at 
the  command  of  the  prytanes.36  This  is  their  way  of  behaving 
about  the  arts  which  have  professors.  When,  however,  the 
question  is  an  affair  of  state,  then  everybody  is  free  to  have  a 
say — carpenter,  tinker,  cobbler,  sailor,  passenger ;  rich  and 
poor,  high  and  low — any  one  who  likes  gets  up,  and  no  one 
reproaches  him,  as  in  the  former  case,  with  not  having  learned, 
and  having  no  teacher,  and  yet  giving  advice ;  evidently  be- 
cause they  are  under  the  impression  that  this  sort  of  knowledge 
cannot  be  taught.  And  not  only  is  this  true  of  the  state,  but 
of  individuals  ;  the  best  and  wisest  of  our  citizens  are  unable 
to  impart  their  political  wisdom  to  others :  as,  for  example, 
Pericles,37  the  father  of  these  young  men,  who  gave  them 
excellent  instruction  in  all  that  could  be  learned  from 
masters,  in  his  own  department  of  politics  taught  them 
nothing ;  nor  did  he  give  them  teachers,  but  they  were  al- 
lowed to  wander  at  their  own  free-will,  in  a  sort  of  hope  that 
they  would  light  upon  virtue  of  their  own  accord.  Or  take 
another  example :  There  was  Cleinias,  the  younger  brother  of 
our  friend  Alcibiades,  of  whom  this  very  same  Pericles  was 
the  guardian ;  and  he  being  in  fact  under  the  apprehension 
that  Cleinias  would   be  corrupted  by   Alcibiades,  took  him 

35  At  Athens,  the  formal  assembly  of  all  the  citizens  which  exercised  cer- 
tain legislative  and  judiciary  functions,  and  had,  with  the  senate,  power  of 
decision  in  all  matters  affecting  the  supreme  interests  of  the  State.  See 
Apology,  note  29. 

3*  Presidents,  or  those  who  presided  over  the  senate  and  assembly  at 
Athens.     See  Apology,  note  29. 

37  Pericles  (495-429  b.c):  the  greatest  of  Athenian  statesmen,  distin- 
guished also  as  an  orator  and  great  general. 


PROTAGORAS  8l 

away,  and  placed  him  in  the  house  of  Ariphron  to  be  educated, 
but  before  six  months  had  elapsed,  Ariphron  sent  him  back, 
not  knowing  what  to  do  with  him.  And  I  could  mention 
numberless  other  instances  of  persons  who  were  good  them- 
selves, and  never  yet  made  any  one  else  good,  whether  friend 
or  stranger.  Now  I,  Protagoras,  when  I  reflect  on  all  this, 
am  inclined  to  think  that  virtue  cannot  be  taught.  But  then 
again,  when  I  listen  to  your  words,  I  am  disposed  to  waver ; 
and  I  believe  that  there  must  be  something  in  what  you  say, 
because  I  know  that  you  have  great  experience,  and  learning, 
and  invention.  And  I  wish  that  you  would,  if  possible,  show 
me  a  little  more  clearly  that  virtue  can  be  taught.  Will  you 
be  so  good  ? 

That  I  will,  Socrates,  and  gladly.  But  what  would  you 
like  ?  Shall  I,  as  an  elder,  speak  to  you  as  younger  men  in 
an  apologue  or  myth,  or  shall  I  argue  the  question  ? 

To  this  several  of  the  company  answered  that  he  should 
choose  for  himself. 

Well,  then,  he  said,  I  think  that  the  myth  will  be  more  in- 
teresting. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  were  gods  only,  and  no  mortal 
creatures.  But  when  the  time  came  that  these  also  should  be 
created,  the  gods  fashioned  them  out  of  earth  and  fire  and 
various  mixtures  of  both  elements  in  the  inward  parts  of  the 
earth  ;  and  when  they  were  about  to  bring  them  into  the  light 
of  day,  they  ordered  Prometheus  and  Epimetheus38  to  equip 
them,  and  to  distribute  to  them  severally  their  proper  quali- 
ties. Epimetheus  said  to  Prometheus:  "Let  me  distribute, 
and  do  you  inspect."  This  was  agreed,  and  Epimetheus 
made  the  distribution.  There  were  some  to  whom  he  gave 
strength  without  swiftness,  or  again  swiftness  without  strength; 
some  he  armed,  and  others  he  left  unarmed  ;  and  devised  for 
the  latter  some  other  means  of  preservation,  making  some 
large,  and  having  their  size  as  a  protection,  and  others 
small,  whose  nature  was  to  fly  in  the  air  or  burrow  in 
the  ground  ;  this  was  to  be  their  way  of  escape.  Thus  did  he 
compensate  them  with  the  view  of  preventing  any  race  from 

38  Prometheus  (pro-me'thus),  Epimetheus  (ep'i-me'thus)  :  ancient  divini- 
ties and  brothers.  The  characters  of  the  two  are  indicated  by  their  names. 
Prometheus  signifies  forethought,  Epimetheus,  afterthought.  See  Longfel- 
low's Masque  of  Pandora ;  Shelley's  Prometheus  Unbound ;  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing's Prometheus  Bound. 
6 


82  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

becoming  extinct.  And  when  he  had  provided  against  their 
destruction  by  one  another,  he  contrived  also  a  means  of  pro- 
tecting them  against  the  seasons  of  heaven  ;  clothing  them 
with  close  hair  and  thick  skins  sufficient  to  defend  them 
against  the  winter  cold  and  summer  heat,  and  for  a  natural 
bed  of  their  own  when  they  wanted  to  rest ;  also  he  furnished 
them  with  hoofs  and  hair  and  hard  and  callous  skins  under 
their  feet.  Then  he  gave  them  varieties  of  food, — to  some 
herbs  of  the  soil,  to  others  fruits  of  trees,  and  to  others  roots, 
and  to  some  again  he  gave  other  animals  as  food.  And  some 
he  made  to  have  few  young  ones,  while  those  who  were  their 
prey  were  very  prolific  ;  and  in  this  way  the  race  was  pre- 
served. Thus  did  Epimetheus,  who,  not  being  very  wise, 
forgot  that  he  had  distributed  among  the  brute  animals  all  the 
qualities  that  he  had  to  give, — and  when  he  came  to  man, 
who  was  still  unprovided,  he  was  terribly  perplexed.  Now 
while  he  was  in  this  perplexity,  Prometheus  came  to  inspect 
the  distribution,  and  he  found  that  the  other  animals  were 
suitably  furnished,  but  that  man  alone  was  naked  and  shoe- 
less, and  had  neither  bed  nor  arms  of  defense.  The  appointed 
hour  was  approaching  in  which  man  was  to  go  forth  into  the 
light  of  day ;  and  Prometheus,  not  knowing  how  he  could 
devise  his  salvation,  stole  the  mechanical  arts  of  Hephaestus39 
and  Athene,40  and  fire  with  them  (they  could  neither  have 
been  acquired  nor  used  without  fire),  and  gave  them  to  man. 
Thus  man  had  the  wisdom  necessary  to  the  support  of  life,  but 
political  wisdom  he  had  not;  for  that  was  in  the  keeping  of 
Zeus,  and  the  power  of  Prometheus  did  not  extend  to  entering 
into  the  castle  of  heaven,  in  which  Zeus41  dwelt,  who  more- 
over had  terrible  sentinels  ;  but  he  did  enter  by  stealth  into 
the  common  workshop  of  Athene  and  Hephaestus,  in  which 
they  used  to  pursue  their  favorite  arts,  and  took  away  Hephaes- 
tus' art  of  working  by  fire,  and  also  the  art  of  Athene,  and 
gave  them  to  man.  And  in  this  way  man  was  supplied  with 
the  means  of  life.     But  Prometheus  is  said  to  have  been  after - 

39  Hephaestus  (he-fes'tus) :  the  god  of  fire  and  of  the  arts  in  which  fire  is 
used,  corresponding  to  the  Roman  Vulcan. 

40  Athene  (a-the'ne)  :  one  of  the  chief  divinities  of  Grecian  mythology, 
often  called  the  goddess  of  wisdom,  corresponding  to  the  Roman  Minerva. 
To  her  was  attributed  the  invention  of  many  arts,  especially  those  proper  to 
women,  like  spinning  and  weaving. 

41  Zeus  (zus):  the  chief  divinity  of  Grecian  mythology,  corresponding  to 
the  Roman  Jupiter. 


PROTAGORAS  83 

wards  prosecuted  for  theft,  owing  to  the  blunder  of  Epime- 
theus. 

Now  man,  having  a  share  of  the  divine  attributes,  was  at 
first  the  only  one  of  the  animals  who  had  any  gods,  because 
he  alone  was  of  their  kindred  ;  and  he  would  raise  altars 
and  images  of  them.  He  was  not  long  in  inventing  ^23 
language  and  names ;  and  he  also  constructed  houses  and 
clothes  and  shoes  and  beds,  and  drew  sustenance  from  the 
earth.  Thus  provided,  mankind  at  first  lived  dispersed,  and 
there  were  no  cities.  But  the  consequence  was  that  they  were 
destroyed  by  the  wild  beasts,  for  they  were  utterly  weak  in 
comparison  of  them,  and  their  art  was  only  sufficient  to  pro- 
vide them  with  the  means  of  life,  and  would  not  enable  them 
to  carry  on  war  against  the  animals  :  food  they  had,  but  not 
as  yet  any  art  of  government,  of  which  the  art  of  war  is  a  part. 
After  awhile  the  desire  of  self-preservation  gathered  them  into 
cities ;  but  when  they  were  gathered  together,  having  no  art 
of  government,  they  evil  intreated  one  another,  and  were 
again  in  process  of  dispersion  and  destruction.  Zeus  feared 
that  the  race  would  be  exterminated,  and  so  he  sent  Hermes42 
to  them,  bearing  reverence  and  justice  to  be  the  ordering 
principles  of  cities  and  the  bonds  of  friendship  and  concilia- 
tion. Hermes  asked  Zeus  how  he  should  impart  justice  and 
reverence  among  men  :  should  he  distribute  them  as  the  arts 
are  distributed  ;  that  is  to  say  to  a  favored  few  only, — for  one 
skilled  individual  has  enough  of  medicine,  or  of  any  other  art, 
for  many  unskilled  ones?  Shall  this  be  the  manner  in  which 
I  distribute  justice  and  reverence  among  men,  or  shall  I  give 
them  to  all  ?  To  all,  said  Zeus ;  I  should  like  them  all  to 
have  a  share  ;  for  cities  cannot  exist,  if  a  few  only  share  in  the 
virtues,  as  in  the  arts.  And  further,  make  a  law  by  my  order, 
that  he  who  has  no  part  in  reverence  and  justice  shall  be  put 
to  death  as  a  plague  of  the  State. 

And  this  is  the  reason,  Socrates,  why  the  Athenians  and 
mankind  in  general,  when  the  question  relates  to  carpentering 
or  any  other  mechanical  art,  allow  but  a  few  to  share  in  their 
deliberations  :  and  when  any  one  else  interferes,  then,  as  you 
say,  they  object,  if  he  be  not  of  the  favored  few,  and  that,  as 
I  say,   is  very  natural.     But   when   they  come  to  deliberate 

42  Hermes  (her'mez) :  messenger  of  the  gods,  corresponding  to  the  Roman 

Mercury. 


84  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

about  political  virtue,  which  proceeds  only  by  way  of  justice 
and  wisdom,  they  are  patient  enough  of  any  man  who  speaks 
of  them,  as  is  also  natural,  because  they  think  that 
every  man  ought  to  share  in  this  sort  of  virtue,  and  that 
states  could  not  exist  if  this  were  otherwise.  I  have  ex- 
plained to  you,  Socrates,  the  reason  of  this  phenomenon. 

And  that  you  may  not  suppose  yourself  to  be  deceived  in 
thinking  that  all  men  regard  every  man  as  having  a  share  of 
justice  and  every  other  political  virtue,  let  me  give  you  a 
further  proof,  which  is  this.  In  other  cases,  as  you  are  aware, 
if  a  man  says  that  he  is  a  good  flute-player,  or  skilful  in  any 
other  art  in  which  he  has  no  skill,  people  either  laugh  at  him 
or  are  angry  with  mm,  and  his  relations  think  that  he  is  mad 
and  go  and  admonish  him  ;  but  when  honesty  is  in  question, 
or  some  other  political  virtue,  even  if  they  know  that  he  is 
dishonest,  yet,  if  the  man  comes  publicly  forward  and  tells 
the  truth  about  his  dishonesty,  in  this  case  they  deem  that  to 
be  madness  which  in  the  other  case  was  held  by  them  to  be 
good  sense.  They  say  that  men  ought  to  profess  honesty 
whether  they  are  honest  or  not,  and  that  a  man  is  mad  who 
does  not  make  such  a  profession.  Their  notion  is,  that  a 
man  must  have  some  degree  of  honesty  ;  and  that  if  he  has 
none  at  all  he  ought  not  to  be  in  the  world. 

I  have  been  showing  that  they  are  right  in  admitting  every 
man  as  a  counsellor  about  this  sort  of  virtue,  as  they  are  of 
opinion  that  every  man  is  a  partaker  of  it.  And  I  will  now 
endeavor  further  to  show  that  they  regard  this  virtue,  not  as 
•gfveilby  nature,  or  growing  spontaneously,  but  as  capable  of 
being  learned  and  acquired  by  study.  For  injustice  is  pun- 
ished, whereas  no  one  would  instruct,  or  rebuke,  or  be  angry  at 
those  whose  calamities  they  suppose  to  come  to  them  either  by 
nature  or  chance;  they  do  not  try  to  alter  them,  they  do  but 
pity  them.  Who  would  be  so  foolish  as  to  chastise  or  instruct 
the  ugly,  or  the  diminutive,  or  the  feeble  ?  And  for  this 
reason  ;  they  know,  I  imagine,  that  this  sort  of  good  and  evil 
comes  to  them  by  nature  and  chance ;  whereas  if  a  man  is 
wanting  in  those  good  qualities  which  come  to  men  from 
study  and  exercise  and  teaching,  and  has  only  the  contrary 
evil  qualities,  men  are  angry  with  him,  and  punish  him  and 
reprove  him.  And  one  of  those  evil  qualities  is  impiety  and 
injustice,  and  they  may  be  described  generally  as  the  oppo- 


PROTAGORAS  85 

site  of  political  virtue.  When  this  is  the  case,  any  man  will 
be  angry  with  another,  and  reprimand  him, — clearly  under 
the  impression  that  by  study  and  learning  the  virtue  in 
which  he  is  deficient  may  be  acquired.  For  if  you  will  32* 
think,  Socrates,  of  the  effect  which  punishment  has  on  evil- 
doers, you  will  see  at  once  that  in  the  opinion  of  mankind 
virtue  may  be  acquired  ;  for  no  one  punishes  the  evil-doer 
under  the  notion,  or  for  the  reason,  that  he  has  done  wrong, 
— only  the  unreasonable  fury  of  a  beast  acts  in  that  way. 
But  he  who  desires  to  inflict  rational  punishment  does  not 
retaliate  for  a  past  wrong,  for  that  which  is  done  cannot  be 
undone,  but  he  has  regard  to  the  future,  and  is  desirous  that 
the  man  who  is  punished,  and  he  who  sees  him  punished, 
may  be  deterred  from  doing  wrong  again.  And  he  implies 
that  virtue  is  capable  of  being  taught ;  as  he  undoubtedly 
punishes  for  the  sake  of  prevention.  This  is  the  notion  of 
all  who  retaliate  upon  others  either  privately  or  publicly. 
And  the  Athenians,  too,  like  other  men,  retaliate  on  those 
whom  they  regard  as  evil-doers ;  and  this  argues  them  to  be 
of  the  number  of  those  who  think  that  virtue  may  be  acquired 
and  taught.  Thus  far,  Socrates,  I  have  shown  you  clearly 
enough,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  that  your  countrymen  are 
right  in  admitting  the  tinker  and  the  cobbler  to  advise  about 
politics,  and  also  that  they  deem  virtue  to  be  capable  of 
being  taught  and  acquired. 

There  yet  remains  one  difficulty  which  has  been  raised  by 
you  about  the  sons  of  good  men.  What  is  the  reason  why 
good  men  teach  their  sons  the  knowledge  which  is  gained 
from  teachers,  and  make  them  wise  in  that,  but  do  nothing 
towards  improving  them  in  the  virtues  which  distinguish 
themselves  ?  And  here,  Socrates,  I  will  leave  the  apologue 
and  take  up  the  argument.  Please  to  consider  :  Is  there  or 
is  there  not  some  one  quality  in  which  all  the  citizens  must 
be  partakers,  if  there  is  to  be  a  city  at  all  ?  In  the  answer  to 
this  question  is  contained  the  only  solution  of  your  difficulty; 
there  is  no  other.  For  if  there  be  any  such  quality,  and  this 
quality  or  unity  is  not  the  art  of  the  carpenter,  or  the 
smith,  or  the  potter,  but  justice  and  temperance  and 
holiness,  and,  in  a  word,  manly  virtue — if  this  is  the  quality 
of  which  all  men  must  be  partakers,  and  which  is  the  very 
condition  of  their  learning  or  doing  anything  else,  and  if  he 


86  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

who  is  wanting  in  this,  whether  he  be  a  child  only  or  a 
grown-up  man  or  woman,  must  be  taught  and  punished,  until 
by  punishment  he  becomes  better,  and  he  who  rebels  against 
instruction  and  punishment  is  either  exiled  or  condemned  to 
death  under  the  idea  that  he  is  incurable — if,  I  say,  this  be 
true,  and  nevertheless  good  men  have  their  sons  taught  other 
things  and  not  this,  do  consider  how  extraordinary  would  be 
their  conduct.  For  we  have  shown  that  they  think  virtue 
capable  of  being  taught  and  inculcated  both  in  private  and 
public  ;  and  yet,  notwithstanding  this,  they  teach  their  sons 
lesser  matters,  ignorance  of  which  does  not  involve  the  pun- 
ishment of  death  :  but  those  things,  the  ignorance  of  which 
may  cause  death  and  exile  to  those  who  have  no  knowledge 
or  training — aye,  and  confiscation  as  well  as  death,  and,  in  a 
word,  may  be  the  ruin  of  families — those  things,  I  say,  they 
are  supposed  not  to  teach  them,  not  to  take  the  utmost  care 
.that  they  should  learn.     That  is  not  likely,  Socrates. 

Education  and  admonition  commence  in  the  first  years  of 
childhood,  and  last  to  the  very  end  of  life.  Mother  and  nurse 
and  father  and  tutor  are  quarreling  about  the  improvement  of 
the  child  as  soon  as  ever  he  is  able  to  understand  them  :  he 
cannot  say  or  do  anything  without  their  setting  forth  to  him 
that  this  is  just  and  that  is  unjust ;  this  is  honorable,  that  is 
dishonorable  ;  this  is  holy,  that  is  unholy  ;  do  this  and  abstain 
from  that.  And  if  he  obeys,  well  and  good  ;  if  not,  he  is 
straightened  by  threats  and  blows,  like  a  piece  of  warped  wood. 
At  a  later  stage  they  send  him  to  teachers,  and  enjoin  them 
to  see  to  his  manners  even  more  than  to  his  reading  and 
music  ; 43  and  the  teachers  do  as  they  are  desired.  And  when 
the  boy  has  learned  his  letters  and  is  beginning  to  understand 
what  is  written,  as  before  he  understood  only  what  was  spoken, 
they  put  into  his  hands  the  works  of  great  poets,  which  he  reads 

6  at  school ;  in  these  are  contained  many  admonitions,  and 
many  tales,  and  praises,  and  encomia  of  ancient  famous 
men,  which  he  is  required  to  learn  by  heart,  in  order  that  he 
may  imitate  or  emulate  them  and  desire  to  become  like  them. 
Then,  again,  the  teachers  of  the  lyre  take  similar  care  that 
their  young  disciple  is  temperate  and  gets  into  no  mischief; 
and  when  they  have  taught  him  the  use  of  the  lyre,  they  intro- 
duce him  to  the  poems  of  other  excellent  poets,  who  are  the 
43  See  Republic  II.,  376,  and  note  17. 


PROTAGORAS  87 

lyric  poets ;  and  these  they  set  to  music,  and  make  their  har- 
monies and  rhythms  quite  familiar  to  the  children,  in  order 
that  they  may  learn  to  be  more  gentle,  and  harmonious,  and 
rhythmical,  and  so  more  fitted  for  speech  and  action  ;  for  the 
life  of  man  in  every  part  has  need  of  harmony  and  rhythm. 
Then  they  send  them  to  the  master  of  gymnastic,44  in  order  that 
their  bodies  may  better  minister  to  the  virtuous  mind,  and  that 
the  weakness  of  their  bodies  may  not  force  them  to  play  the 
coward  in  war  or  on  any  other  occasion.  This  is  what  is  done 
by  those  who  have  the  means,  and  those  who  have  the  means 
are  the  rich  :  their  children  begin  education  soonest  and  leave 
off  latest.  When  they  have  done  with  masters,  the  State  again 
compels  them  to  learn  the  laws,  and  live  after  the  pattern 
which  they  furnish,  and  not  after  their  own  fancies ;  and  just 
as  in  learning  to  write,  the  writing-master  first  draws  lines  with 
a  stylus  for  the  use  of  the  young  beginner,  and  gives  him  the 
tablet  and  makes  him  follow  the  lines,  so  the  city  draws  the 
laws,  which  were  the  invention  of  good  lawgivers  who  were  of 
old  time  ;  these  are  given  to  the  young  man,  in  order  to  guide 
him  in  his  conduct  whether  as  ruler  or  ruled ;  and  he  who 
transgresses  them  is  to  be  corrected,  or,  in  other  words,  called 
to  account,  which  is  a  term  used  not  only  in  your  country,  but 
also  in  many  others.  Now  when  there  is  all  this  care  about 
virtue  private  and  public,  why,  Socrates,  do  you  still  wonder 
and  doubt  whether  virtue  can  be  taught  ?  Cease  to  wonder, 
for  the  opposite  would  be  far  more  surprising. 

But  why  then  do  the  sons  of  good  fathers  often  turn  out  ill  ? 
Let  me  explain  that, — which  is  far  from  being  wonderful,  if,  as  ^ 
I  have  been  saying,  the  very  existence  of  the  State  implies  that 
virtue  is  not  any  man's  private  possession.     If  this  be  true 
— and  nothing  can  be  truer — then  I  will  ask  you  to  im- 
agine, as  an  illustration,  some  other  pursuit  or  branch  of  knowl- 
edge which  may  be  assumed  equally  to  be  the  condition  of  the 
existence  of  a  State.     Suppose  that  there  could  be  no  State  un- 
less we  were  all  flute-players,  as  far  as  each  had  the  capacity, 
and  everybody  was  freely  teaching  everybody  the  art,  both  in 
private  and  public,  and  reproving  the  bad  player  as  freely  and 
openly  as  every  man  now  teaches  justice  and  the  laws,  not  con- 
cealing them  as  he  would  conceal  the  other  arts,  but  imparting 
them— for  all  of  us  have  a  mutual  interest  in  the  justice  and 
."  See  Republic  III.,  4°3>  and  following. 


88  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

virtue  of  one  another,  and  this  is  the  reason  why  every  one 
is  ready  to  teach  justice  and  the  laws ;  suppose,  I  say,  that 
there  were  the  same  readiness  and  liberality  among  us  in  teach- 
ing one  another  flute-playing,  do  you  imagine,  Socrates,  that 
the  sons  of  good  flute-players  would  be  more  likely  to  be  good 
than  the  sons  of  bad  ones?  I  think  not.  Would  not  their  sons 
grow  up  to  be  distinguished  or  undistinguished  according  to 
their  own  natural  capacities  as  flute-players,  and  the  son  of  a 
good  player  would  often  turn  out  to  be  a  bad  one,  and  the  son 
of  a  bad  player  to  be  a  good  one,  and  all  flute-players  would  be 
good  enough  in  comparison  of  those  who  were  ignorant  and  un- 
acquainted with  the  art  of  flute-playing?  In  like  manner  I 
would  have  you  consider  that  he  who  appears  to  you  to  be  the 
worst  of  those  who  have  been  brought  up  in  laws  and  human- 
ities, would  appear  to  be  a  just  man  and  a  master  of  justice  if 
he  were  to  be  compared  with  men  who  had  no  education,  or 
courts  of  justice,  or  laws,  or  any  restraints  upon  them  which 
compelled  them  to  practice  virtue — with  the  savages,  for  ex- 
ample, whom  the  poet  Pherecrates  45  exhibited  on  the  stage  at 
the  last  year's  Lenaean  festival.46  If  you  were  living  among 
men  such  as  the  man-haters  in  his  Chorus,47  you  would  be  only 
too  glad  to  meet  with  Eurybates  and  Phrynondas,48  and  you 
would  sorrowfully  desire  the  rascality  of  this  part  of  the  world. 
And  you,  Socrates,  are  discontented,  and  why  ?  Because  all 
men  are  teachers  of  virtue,  each  one  according  to  his  ability, 
and  you  say  that  there  is  no  teacher.  You  might  as  well  ask, 
8  Who  teaches  Greek?  For  of  that  too  there  will  not  be 
any  teachers  found.  Or  you  might  ask,  Who  is  to  teach 
the  sons  of  our  artisans  this  same  art  which  they  have  learned 
of  their  fathers  ?  He  and  his  fellow- workmen  have  taught  them 
to  the  best  of  their  ability, — but  who  will  carry  them  further 

45  Pherecrates  (fe-rek'ra-tez,  5th  century  B.C.):  an  Athenian  writer  of 
comedy. 

4,f  The  Lenaea  (le-ne'a)  or  Feast  of  Vats,  was  one  of  a  series  of  religious 
festivals  celebrated  in  Athens  in  honor  of  Dionysus,  god  of  wine.  After  a 
public  banquet  the  citizens  went  to  the  theatre,  where  tragedies  and  comedies 
were  presented. 

47  The  chorus  was  originally  a  number  of  persons  who  sang  and  danced 
at  religious  festivals.  The  drama  was  developed  out  of  the  chorus  of  the 
festivals  in  honor  of  Dionysus.  Even  after  actors  were  introduced  the 
chorus  was  retained  as  an  important  element  of  the  drama,  though  its  place 
became  gradually  limited  and  subordinate. 

48  Eurybates  (u-ryb'a-tez)  and  Phrynondas  (fn-non'das) :  "  Notorious 
villains." — Jowett. 


PROTAGORAS  89 

in  their  arts?  And  you  would  certainly  have  a  difficulty, 
Socrates,  in  finding  a  teacher  of  them  ;  but  there  would  be  no 
difficulty  in  finding  a  teacher  of  those  who  are  wholly  ignorant. 
And  this  is  true  of  virtue  or  of  anything  j  and  if  a  man  is  better 
able  than  we  are  to  promote  virtue  ever  so  little,  that  is  as 
much  as  we  can  expect.  A  teacher  of  this  sort  I  believe  my- 
self to  be,  and  above  all  other  men  to  have  the  knowledge 
which  makes  a  man  noble  and  good  ;  and  I  give  my  pupils 
their  money's-worth,  and  even  more,  as  they  themselves  con- 
fess. And  therefore  I  have  introduced  the  following  mode  of 
payment :  When  a  man  has  been  my  pupil,  if  he  likes  he- 
pays  my  price,  but  there  is  no  compulsion  ;  and  if  he  does 
not  like,  he  has  only  to  go  into  a  temple  and  take  an  oath  of 
the  value  of  the  instructions,  and  he  pays  no  more  than  he 
declares  to  be  their  value. 

Such  is  my  apologue,  Socrates,  and  such  is  the  argument  by 
which  I  endeavor  to  show  that  virtue  may  be  taught,  and  that 
this  is  the  opinion  of  the  Athenians.  And  I  have  also  at- 
tempted to  show  that  you  are  not  to  wonder  at  good  fathers 
having  bad  sons,  or  at  good  sons  having  bad  fathers,  as  may  be 
seen  in  the  sons  of  Polycleitus,  who  are  of  the  same  age  as  our 
friends  Paralus  and  Xanthippus,  and  who  are  very  inferior  to 
their  father  j  and  this  is  true  of  many  other  artists.  But  I 
ought  not  to  say  the  same  as  yet  of  Paralus  and  Xanthippus 
themselves,  for  they  are  young  and  there  is  still  hope  of  them. 

Protagoras  ended,  and  in  my  ear  — 

'*  So  charming  left  his  voice,  that  I  the  while 

Thought  him  still  speaking ;  still  stood  fixed  to  hear." 

At  length  when  I  saw  that  he  had  really  finished,  I  gradually 
recovered  consciousness,  and  looking  at  Hippocrates,  I  said  to 
him  :  O  son  of  Apollodorus,  how  deeply  grateful  I  am  to  you 
for  having  brought  me  hither ;  I  would  not  have  missed  the 
speech  of  Protagoras  for  a  great  deal.  For  I  used  to  imagine 
that  no  human  care  could  make  men  good  ;  but  I  know  better 
now.  Yet  I  have  still  one  very  small  difficulty  which  I  am 
sure  that  Protagoras  will  easily  explain,  as  he  has  already 
explained  so  much.  For  if  a  man  were  to  go  and  consult  3*£" 
Pericles  or  any  of  our  great  speakers  about  these  matters, 
he  might  perhaps  hear  as  fine  a  discourse  j  but  then  if  any  one 
has  a  question  to  ask  of  any  of  them,  like  books,  they  can 


90  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

neither  answer  nor  ask  j  and  if  any  one  challenges  the  least 
particular  of  their  speech,  they  go  ringing  on  in  a  long  ha- 
rangue, like  brazen  pots,  which  when  they  are  struck  continue 
to  sound  unless  some  one  puts  his  hand  upon  them  ;  whereas 
our  friend  Protagoras  can  not  only  make  a  good  speech,  as  he 
has  already  shown,  but  when  he  is  asked  a  question  he  can 
answer  briefly;  and  when  he  asks  he  will  wait  and  hear  the 
answer ;  and  this  is  a  very  rare  gift.  Now  I,  Protagoras,  have 
a  little  question  that  I  want  to  ask  of  you,  and  if  you  will  only 
answer  me  that,  I  shall  be  quite  satisfied.  You  were  saying 
that  virtue  can  be  taught  ;  that  I  will  take  upon  your  authority, 
and  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I  am  more  ready  to  trust.  But 
I  marvel  at  one  thing  about  which  I  should  like  to  have  my 
mind  set  at  rest.  You  were  speaking  of  Zeus  sending  justice 
and  reverence  to  men  ;  and  several  times  while  you  were  speak- 
ing, justice  and  temperance  and  holiness,  and  all  these  quali- 
ties, were  described  by  you  as  if  together  they  made  up  virtue. 
Now  I  want  you  to  tell  me  truly  whether  virtue  is  one  whole,  of 
which  justice  and  temperance  and  holiness  are  parts  j  or  whether 
all  these  are  only  the  names  of  one  and  the  same  thing :  that 
is  the  doubt  which  still  lingers  in  my  mind. 

[Protagoras  replies  that  the  qualities  which  Socrates  men- 
tions are  not  different  names  for  one  and  the  same  thing,  but 
are  parts  of  a  whole,  just  as*  the  features  are  parts  of  a 
face,  each  entirely  different  from  all  the  others  and  hav- 
ing its  own  function.  Socrates  proceeds  by  a  cross-exam- 
ination of  Protagoras  to  test  the  truth  of  this  theory.  First  he 
shows  that  if  the  parts  of  virtue  are  unlike,  if,  for  example, 
justice  is  not  of  the  nature  of  holiness,  nor  holiness  of  the 
nature  of  justice,  then  justice  is  unholy.  Protagoras  cannot 
agree  to  this.  He  admits  that  justice  bears  a  resemblance  to 
holiness,  but  denies  that  they  are  identical.  He  prefers  to  say 
simply  that  they  are  different.  The  most  unlike  things,  he 
claims,  can  be  shown  to  be  alike  from  some  point  of  view. 

Socrates  continues  his  questioning  and  draws  Protagoras  into 
making  statements  which  contradict  his  own  theory  that  the 
virtues  are  many  and  unlike.  Protagoras  asserts  at  one  time 
that  folly  is  opposed  to  wisdom,  and  at  another  time  that  folly 
is  opposed  to  temperance ;  but  he  has  also  been  led  to  affirm 
that  everything  has  one  opposite  and  only  one.     It  becomes 


PROTAGORAS  91 

clear  that  he  must  renounce  one  of  these  statements  or  admit 
that  wisdom  and  temperance  are  the  same. 

Having  obtained  the  reluctant  consent  of  Protagoras  to  this 
and  reminding  him  that  justice  and  holiness  have  been  shown 
to  be  nearly  the  same,  Socrates  begins  a  third  attack  which 
Protagoras  foresees  must  lead  him  to  the  admission  that  temper- 
ance and  justice  are  one  and  the  same.  To  evade  this  conclu- 
sion, Protagoras  takes  refuge  in  a  long  speech,  which  sounds 
well  but  is  not  much  to  the  point.] 

When  he  had  given  this  answer,  the  company  cheered  him. 
And  I  said  :  Protagoras,  I  have  a  wretched  memory,  and 
when  any  one  makes  a  long  speech  to  me  I  never  remember 
what  he  is  talking  about.  As  then,  if  I  had  been  deaf,  and 
you  were  going  to  converse  with  me,  you  would  have  had  to 
raise  your  voice ;  so  now,  having  such  a  bad  memory,  I  will 
ask  you  to  cut  your  answers  shorter,  if  you  would  take  me 
with  you. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said  :  how  am  I  to  shorten  my 
answers  ?  shall  I  make  them  too  short  ? 

Certainly  not,  I  said. 

But  short  enough  ?  he  said. 

Yes,  I  said. 

Shall  I  answer  what  appears  to  me  to  be  short  enough,  or 
what  appears  to  you  to  be  short  enough  ? 

I  have  heard,  I  said,  that  you  can  speak  and  teach  others  to 
speak  about  the  same  things  at  such  length  that  words  never 
seemed  to  fail,  or  with  such  brevity  that  no  one  could  use 
fewer  of  them.     Please  therefore,  if  you  talk  with  me,  to 
adopt  the  latter  or  more  compendious  method. 

Socrates,  he  replied,  many  a  battle  of  words  have  I  fought, 
and  if  I  had  followed  the  method  of  disputation  which  my 
adversaries  desired,  as  you  want  me  to  do,  I  should  have  been 
no  better  than  another,  and  the  name  of  Protagoras  would 
have  been  nowhere. 

I  saw  that  he  was  not  satisfied  with  his  previous  answers, 
and  that  he  would  not  play  the  part  of  answerer  any  more  if 
he  could  help  ;  and  I  considered  that  there  was  no  call  upon 
me  to  continue  the  conversation  ;  so  I  said  :  Protagoras,  I 
don't  wish  to  force  the  conversation  upon  you  if  you  had 
rather  not,  but  when  you  are  willing  to  argue  with  me  in  such 


92  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

a  way  that  I  can  follow  you,  then  I  will  argue  with  you.  Now 
you,  as  is  said  of  you  by  others  and  as  you  say  of  yourself,  are 
able  to  have  discussions  in  shorter  forms  of  speech  as  well  as 
in  longer,  for  you  are  a  master  of  wisdom  ;  but  I  cannot  man- 
age these  long  speeches :  I  only  wish  that  I  could.  You,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  are  capable  of  either,  ought  to  speak 
shorter  as  I  beg  you,  and  then  we  might  converse.  But  I  see 
that  you  are  disinclined,  and  as  I  have  an  engagement  which 
will  prevent  my  staying  to  hear  you  at  length  (for  I  have  to 
be  in  another  place),  I  will  depart ;  although  I  should  have 
liked  to  have  heard  you. 

Thus  I  spoke,  and  was  rising  from  my  seat,  when  Callias 
seized  me  by  the  hand,  and  in  his  left  hand  caught  hold  of 
this  old  cloak  of  mine.  He  said  :  We  cannot  let  you  go, 
Socrates,  for  if  you  leave  us  there  will  be  an  end  of  our  dis- 
cussions :  I  must  therefore  beg  you  to  remain,  as  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  that  I  should  like  better  than  to  hear 
you  and  Protagoras  discourse.  Do  not  deny  the  company 
this  pleasure. 

Now  I  had  got  up,  and  was  in  the  act  of  departure.  Son 
of  Hipponicus,  I  replied,  I  have  always  admired,  and  do  now 
heartily  applaud  and  love  your  philosophical  spirit,  and  I 
would  gladly  comply  with  your  request,  if  I  could.     But  the 

,  truth  is  that  I  cannot.  And  what  you  ask  is  as  great  an 
impossibility  to  me,  as  if  you  bade  me  run  a  race  with 
Crison  of  Himera  49  when  in  his  prime,  or  with  some  one  of 
the  long  or  day  course  runners.50  To  that  I  should  reply,  that 
I  humbly  make  the  same  request  to  my  own  legs  ;  and  they 
can't  comply.  And  therefore  if  you  want  to  see  Crison  and 
me  in  the  same  stadium,51  you  must  bid  him  slacken  his  speed 
to  mine,  for  I  cannot  run  quickly,  and  he  can  run  slowly. 
And  in  like  manner  if  you  want  to  hear  me  and  Protagoras 
discoursing,  you  must  ask  him  to  shorten  his  answers,  and 
keep  to  the  point,  as  he  did  at  first ;  if  not,  how  can 
there  be  any  discussion  ?     For  discussion  is  one  thing,  and 

49  Crison  (krl'son)  ;  Himera  (him'e-ra) :  a  Greek  city  on  the  north  coast  of 
Sicily. 

50  It  is  interesting  to  note  in  this  connection  that  in  the  revived  Olympian 
Games  which  took  place  at  Athens  in  the  summer  of  1896,  while  American, 
German,  and  other  foreign  athletes  won  most  of  the  prizes,  a  Greek  peasant 
won  the  long  race  from  Marathon  to  Athens,  a  distance  of  over  twenty 
miles. 

61  Stadium  (sta'di-iim)  :  Greek  name  for  the  foot-race  course. 


PROTAGORAS  93 

making  an  oration  is  quite  another,  according  to  my  way  of 
thinking. 

But  you  see,  Socrates,  said  Callias,  that  Protagoras  may 
fairly  claim  to  speak  in  his  own  way,  just  as  you  claim  to 
speak  in  yours. 

Here  Alcibiades  interposed,  and  said  :  That,  Callias,  is  not 
a  fair  statement  of  the  case.  For  our  friend  Socrates  admits 
that  he  cannot  make  a  speech — in  this  he  yields  the  palm  to 
Protagoras ;  but  I  should  be  greatly  surprised  if  he  yielded  to 
any  living  man  in  the  power  of  holding  and  apprehending  an 
argument.  Now  if  Protagoras  will  make  a  similar  admission, 
and  confess  that  he  is  inferior  to  Socrates  in  argumentative 
skill,  that  is  enough  for  Socrates ;  but  if  he  claims  a  superior- 
ity in  argument  as  well,  let  him  ask  and  answer — not,  when  a 
question  is  asked,  having  recourse  to  shifts  and  evasions,  and 
instead  of  answering,  making  a  speech  at  such  length  that 
most  of  his  hearers  forget  the  question  at  issue  (not  that  Soc- 
rates is  likely  to  forget — I  will  be  bound  for  that,  although  he 
may  pretend  in  fun  that  he  has  a  bad  memory).  And  Socrates 
appears  to  me  to  be  more  in  the  right  thau  Protagoras ;  that 
is  my  opinion,  and  every  man  ought  to  say  what  he  thinks. 

When  Alcibiades  had  done  speaking,  some  one — Critias,  I 
believe — went  on  to  say  :  O  Prodicus  and  Hippias,  Callias  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  a  partisan  of  Protagoras.  And  this  led  Al- 
cibiades, who  loves  opposition,  to  take  the  other  side.  But 
we  should  not  be  partisans  either  of  Socrates  or  Protagoras  ; 
let  us  rather  unite  in  entreating  both  of  them  not  to  break  up 
the  discussion. 

Prodicus  added :  That,  Critias,  seems  to  me  to  be  well 
said,  for  those  who  are  present  at  such  discussions  ought  to 
be  impartial  hearers  of  both  the  speakers  ;  remembering, 
however,  that  impartiality  is  not  the  same  as  equality, 
for  both  sides  should  be  impartially  heard,  and  yet  an  equal 
meed  should  not  be  assigned  to  both  of  them ;  but  to  the 
wiser  a  higher  meed  should  be  given,  and  a  lower  to  the  less 
wise.  And  I  as  well  as  Critias  would  beg  you,  Protagoras  and 
Socrates,  to  grant  our  request,  which  is,  that  you  will  argue 
with  one  another  and  not  wrangle;  for  friends  argue  with 
friends  out  of  good-will,  but  only  adversaries  and  enemies 
wrangle.  And  then  our  meeting  will  be  delightful ;  for  in 
this  way  you,  who  are  the  speakers,  will  be  most  likely  to  win 


94  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

esteem,  and  not  praise  only,  among  us  who  are  your  audience ; 
for  esteem  is  a  sincere  conviction  of  the  hearers'  souls,  but 
praise  is  often  an  insincere  expression  of  men  uttering  words 
contrary  to  their  conviction.  And  thus  we  who  are  the  hear- 
ers will  be  gratified  and  not  pleased ;  for  gratification  is  of 
the  mind  when  receiving  wisdom  and  knowledge,  but  pleasure 
is  of  the  body  when  eating  or  experiencing  some  other  bodily 
delight.  Thus  spoke  Prodicus,  and  many  of  the  company 
applauded  his  words. 

Hippias  the  sage  spoke  next.  He  said :  All  of  you  who 
are  here  present  I  reckon  to  be  kinsmen  and  friends  and  fellow- 
citizens,  by  nature  and  not  by  law ;  for  by  nature  like  is  akin 
to  like,  whereas  law  is  the  tyrant  of  mankind,  and  often  com- 
pels us  to  do  many  things  which  are  against  nature.  How 
great  would  be  the  disgrace  then,  if  we,  who  know  the  nature 
of  things,  and  are  the  wisest  of  the  Hellenes,  and  as  such  are 
met  together  in  this  city,  which  is  the  metropolis  of  wisdom, 
and  in  the  greatest  and  most  glorious  house  of  this  city,  should 
have  nothing  to  show  worthy  of  this  height  of  dignity,  but 
should  only  quarrel  with  one  another  like  the  meanest  of  man- 
kind. I  do  pray  and  advise  you,  Protagoras,  and  you,  Socra- 
tes, to  agree  upon  a  compromise.  Let  us  be  your  peacemak- 
ers. And  do  not  you,  Socrates,  aim  at  this  precise  and  ex- 
treme brevity  in  discourse,  if  Protagoras  objects,  but 
33°=  loosen  and  let  go  the  reins  of  speech,  that  your  words 
may  be  grander  and  become  you  better.  Neither  do  you, 
Protagoras,  go  forth  on  the  gale  with  every  sail  set  out  of  sight 
of  land  into  an  ocean  of  words,  but  let  there  be  a  mean  ob- 
served by  both  of  you.  Do  as  I  say.  And  let  me  also  sug- 
gest and  suppose  further,  that  you  choose  an  arbiter  or  over- 
seer or  president ;  he  will  keep  watch  over  your  words  and 
reduce  them  to  their  proper  length. 

This  proposal  was  received  by  the  company  with  universal 
approval ;  and  Callias  said  that  he  would  not  let  me  off,  and 
that  I  was  to  choose  an  arbiter.  But  I  said  that  to  choose  an 
umpire  of  discourse  would  be  unseemly;  for  if  the  person 
chosen  was  inferior,  then  the  inferior  or  worse  ought  not  to 
preside  over  the  better  ;  or  if  he  was  equal,  neither  would  that 
be  well ;  for  he  who  is  our  equal  will  do  as  we  do,  and  what 
will  be  the  use  of  choosing  him?  And  if  you  say  "Let  us 
have  a  better  then,"  to  that  I  answer  that  you  cannot  have 


PROTAGORAS  95 

any  one  who  is  wiser  than  Protagoras.  And  if  you  choose 
another  who  is  not  really  better,  and  whom  you  only  say  is 
better,  to  put  another  over  him  as  though  he  were  an  inferior 
person  would  be  an  unworthy  reflection  on  him ;  not  that,  as 
far  as  I  am  concerned,  any  reflection  is  of  much  consequence 
to  me.  Let  me  tell  you  then  what  I  will  do  in  order  that  the 
conversation  and  discussion  may  go  on  as  you  desire.  If  Pro- 
tagoras is  not  disposed  to  answer,  let  him  ask  and  I  will  an- 
swer ;  and  I  will  endeavor  to  show  at  the  same  time  how,  as 
I  maintain,  he  ought  to  answer :  and  when  I  have  answered 
as  many  questions  as  he  likes  to  ask,  let  him  in  like  manner 
answer ;  and  if  he  seems  to  be  not  very  ready  at  answering 
the  exact  questions,  you  and  I  will  unite  in  entreating  him, 
as  you  entreated  me,  not  to  spoil  the  discussion.  And  this 
will  require  no  special  arbiter :  you  shall  all  of  you  be 
arbiters. 

This  was  generally  approved,  and  Protagoras,  though  very 
much  against  his  will,  was  obliged  to  agree  that  he  would  ask 
questions ;  and  when  he  had  put  a  sufficient  number  of  them, 
that  he  would  answer  in  his  turn  those  which  he  was  asked  in 
short  replies. 

[Protagoras  proposes  to  base  his  questions  on  a  certain  pas- 
sage from  the  poet  Simonides,  relating  to  virtue.  The  ensuing 
discussion  which  forms  a  long  digression,  some  scholars 
claim  to  be  a  satire  on  the  hypercritical  methods  of  in-  339- 
terpretation  employed  by  the  Sophists.  In  the  course  of 
the  discussion  however,  Socrates  gives  expression  to  his  doctrine 
that  knowledge  is  virtue,  as  follows  :] 

Simonides  was  not  so  ignorant  as  to  say  that  he  praised 
those  who  did  no  evil  voluntarily,  as  though  there  were  some 
who  did  evil  voluntarily.  For  no  wise  man,  as  I  believe, 
will  allow  that  any  human  being  errs  voluntarily,  or  volun- 
tarily does  evil  and  dishonorable  actions  ;  but  they  are  very 
well  aware  that  all  who  do  evil  and  dishonorable  things  do 
them  against  their  will. 

[The  doctrine  that  a  man  cannot  knowingly  do  wrong  is 
fundamental  with  Socrates  and  is  brought  out  more  fully  later 
in  the  dialogue.     At  present  he  employs  it  to  interpret  the 


g6  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

poem  under  discussion.      His  explanation  of  the  poem  is  long 
and  elaborate.     When  he  had  finished,] 

Hippias  said  :  I  think,  Socrates,  that  you  have  given  a  very 
good  explanation  of  this  poem  ;  but  I  have  also  an  excellent 
interpretation  of  my  own  which  I  will  expound  to  you,  if  you 
will  allow  me. 

Nay,  Hippias,  said  Alcibiades  ;  not  now,  but  another  time. 
At  present  we  must  abide  by  the  compact  which  was  made 
between  Socrates  and  Protagoras,  to  the  effect  that  as  long  as 
Protagoras  is  willing  to  ask,  Socrates  should  answer  ;  or  that 
if  he  would  rather  answer,  then  that  Socrates  should  ask. 

I  said  :  I  wish  Protagoras  either  to  ask  or  answer  as  he  is 
inclined  ;  but  I  would  rather  have  done  with  poems  and  odes, 
if  you  do  not  object,  and  come  back  to  the  question  about 
which  I  was  asking  you  at  first,  Protagoras,  and  by  your  help 
make  an  end  of  that.  The  talk  about  the  poet  seems  to  me 
like  a  commonplace  entertainment  to  which  a  vulgar  company 
have  recourse  ;  wrho,  because  they  are  not  able  to  converse  or 
amuse  one  another,  while  they  are  drinking,  with  the  sound 
of  their  own  voices  and  conversation  by  reason  of  their  stu- 
pidity, raise  the  price  of  flute-girls  in  the  market,  hiring  for  a 
great  sum  the  voice  of  a  flute  instead  of  their  own  breath,  to 
be  the  medium  of  intercourse  among  them  :  but  where  the 
company  are  real  gentlemen  and  men  of  education,  you  will 
see  no  flute-girls,  nor  dancing-girls,  nor  harp-girls  ;  and  they 
have  no  nonsense  or  games,  but  are  contented  with  one  an- 
other's conversation,  of  which  their  own  voices  are  the  me- 
dium, and  which  they  carry  on  by  turns  and  in  an  orderly 
manner,  even  though  they  are  very  liberal  in  their  potations. 
And  a  company  like  this  of  ours,  and  men  such  as  we  profess 
to  be,  do  not  require  the  help  of  another's  voice,  or  of  the 
poets  whom  you  cannot  interrogate  about  the  meaning  of 
what  they  are  saying  ;  people  who  cite  them  declaring,  some 
that  the  poet  has  one  meaning,  and  others  that  he  has  an- 
other ;  and  there  arises  a  dispute  which  can  never  be  put  to 
the  proof.     This  sort  of  entertainment  they  decline,  and  pre- 

£     fer    to  talk   with    one  another,    and  try  one  another's 

mettle  in  conversation.     And  these  are  the  sort  of  models 

which  I  desire  that  you  and  I  should  imitate.      Leaving  the 

poets,  and  keeping  to  ourselves,  let  us   try  the  mettle  of  one 


PROTAGORAS  97 

another  and  of  the  truth  in  conversation.  And  if  you  have  a 
mind  to  ask  I  am  ready  to  answer  j  or  if  you  would  rather,  do 
you  answer,  and  give  me  the  opportunity  of  taking  up  and 
completing  our  unfinished  argument. 

I  made  these  and  some  similar  observations;  but  Protagoras 
would  not  distinctly  say  which  he  would  do.  Thereupon  Al- 
cibiades  turned  to  Callias,  and  said  :  Do  you  think,  Callias, 
that  Protagoras  is  fair  in  refusing  to  say  whether  he  will  or 
will  not  answer  ?  for  I  certainly  think  that  he  is  unfair  ;  he 
ought  either  to  proceed  with  the  argument,  or  distinctly  to 
refuse  to  proceed,  that  we  may  know  his  intention  j  and 
then  Socrates  will  be  able  to  discourse  with  some  one  else, 
and  the  rest  of  the  company  will  be  free  to  talk  with  one 
another. 

I  think  that  Protagoras  was  really  made  ashamed  by  these 
words  of  Alcibiades,  and  when  the  prayers  of  Callias  and  the 
company  were  superadded,  he  was  at  last  induced  to  argue, 
and  said  that  I  might  ask  and  he  would  answer. 

So  I  said:  Do  not  imagine,  Protagoras,  that  I  have  any 
other  interest  in  asking  questions  of  you  but  that  of  clearing 
up  my  own  difficulties.  For  I  think  that  Homer  was  very  right 
in  saying  that  "When  two  go  together  one  sees  before  the 
other,"  for  all  men  who  have  a  companion  are  readier  in  deed, 
word,  or  thought;  but  if  a  man  "sees  a  thing  when  he  is 
alone,"  he  goes  about  straightway  seeking  until  he  finds  some 
one  to  whom  he  may  show  his  discoveries,  and  who  may  con- 
firm him  in  them.  And  I  would  rather  hold  discourse  with 
you  than  with  any  one,  because  I  think  that  no  man  has  a  bet- 
ter understanding  of  most  things  which  a  good  man  may  be 
expected  to  understand,  and  in  particular  of  virtue.  For  who 
is  there,  but  you  ? — who  not  only  claim  to  be  a  good  man  and 
a  gentleman,  for  many  are  this,  and  yet  have  not  the  power  of 
making  others  good.  Whereas  you  are  not  only  good  your- 
self, but  also  the  cause  of  goodness  in  others.  Moreover  such 
confidence  have  you  in  yourself,  that  although  other  Sophists 
conceal  their  profession,  you  proclaim  in  the  face  of  Hellas 
that  you  are  a  Sophist  or  teacher  of  virtue  and  education, 
and  are  the  first  who  demanded  pay  in  return.  How  then  349- 
can  I  do  otherwise  than  invite  you  to  the  examination  of 
these  subjects,  and  ask  questions  and  take  advice  of  you?  In- 
deed, I  must. 


98  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

[Socrates  now  returns  to  the  original  question — whether  the 
virtues  are  one  or  many — and  wishes  Protagoras  to  state  his 
opinion  again.  Protagoras  answers  that  the  virtues  are  not 
one  but  many,  and  that  while  four  of  the  virtues,  justice, 
temperance,  holiness,  and  wisdom,  are  to  some  extent  sim- 
ilar, the  fifth,  courage,  is  very  different  from  the  rest.  For, 
he  claims,  a  man  may  be  remarkable  for  his  courage,  but 
utterly  lacking  in  justice,  temperance,  wisdom,  and  holiness. 

Socrates  proceeds  in  the  following  way  to  prove  that  courage 
is  one  with  the  other  virtues.  First,  the  courageous  man  is 
the  confident  man,  as  Protagoras  himself  allows.  What  gives 
confidence  to  a  man,  for  example,  to  a  horseman  or  a  soldier? 
Clearly  in  every  case,  the  confidence  of  a  man  comes  from  his 
knowledge  of  his  profession.  When  a  man  is  confident  about 
matters  of  which  he  is  ignorant,  we  call  him  mad.  His  is  not 
true  courage.  When  Protagoras  concedes  that  confidence  or 
courage  is  always  derived  from  knowledge,  he  contradicts  his 
previous  assertion  that  a  man  may  be  ignorant  and  still  cou- 
rageous. To  be  consistent  he  must  admit  that  courage  and 
wisdom  are  one.  He  evades  the  point  by  complaining  that 
Socrates  has  unfairly  attributed  to  his  words  meanings  that 
he  did  not  intend,  and  he  tries  to  show  how  he  would  make 
a  distinction  between  courage  and  confidence. 

Socrates  abruptly  changes  his  point  of  attack.  Some  men, 
he  says,  live  well,  and  others  ill.  Those  who  live  pleasantly, 
live  well,  and  those  who  live  in  pain,  live  ill.  Protagoras 
agrees.  Now  Socrates  wishes  to  know  whether  pleasure  is  the 
only  good  and  pain  the  only  evil.  Protagoras  hesitates  to  make 
such  an  assumption  without  qualification.  He  would  rather 
say  with  most  men,  that  some  pleasant  things  are  good  and 
some  painful  things  evil.  He  wishes,  however,  to  inquire  into 
the  truth  of  the  matter,  and  Socrates,  who  is  to  lead  the  dis- 
cussion, begins  by  asking  the  nature  of  knowledge  (This 
seems  to  be  a  digression,  but  only  for  the  moment)  :] 

Now  the  rest  of  the  world  are  of  opinion  that  knowledge  is 
a  principle  not  of  strength,  or  of  rule,  or  of  command  ;  their 
notion  is  that  a  man  may  have  knowledge,  and  yet  that  the 
knowledge  which  is  in  him  may  be  overmastered  by  anger,  or 
pleasure,  or  pain,  or  love,  or  perhaps  fear, — just  as  if  knowledge 
were  a  slave,  and  might  be  dragged  about  anyhow.     Now  is 


PROTAGORAS  99 

that  your  view  ?  or  do  you  think  that  knowledge  is  a  noble  and 
commanding  thing,  which  cannot  be  overcome,  and  will  not 
allow  a  man,  if  he  only  knows  the  difference  of  good  and  evil, 
to  do  anything  which  is  contrary  to  knowledge,  but  that  wis- 
dom will  have  strength  to  help  him  ? 

[Protagoras  holds  the  latter  view,  for  he  believes  that  wisdom 
and  knowledge  are  the  highest  of  human  things.  He  is  not 
inclined  to  trouble  himself  about  the  opinion  of  the  common 
people.  Socrates,  however,  has  a  purpose  in  showing  how  it  is 
that  mankind  in  general  have  come  to  have  a  wrong  opinion 
of  knowledge.  The  error,  he  claims,  arises  from  a  mistaken 
notion  of  pleasure  and  pain,  good  and  evil.  That  it  is  im- 
possible for  a  man  who  has  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  to  do 
evil,  will  be  clear  when  we  understand  the  true  relations  of 
pleasure,  pain,  good  and  evil.  The  common  saying  that  men 
are  overcome  by  pleasure  implies  that  pleasures  are  sometimes 
evil.  Now,  are  the  pleasures  of  eating  and  drinking,  for  ex- 
ample, by  which  men  are  said  to  be  overcome,  evil  simply  be- 
cause they  are  pleasant  ?  No  one  would  claim  this.  All  will 
agree  that  they  are  evil  solely  on  account  of  their  evil  conse- 
quences— because  they  produce  disease,  pain,  poverty  and  the 
like,  in  the  future.  Moreover,  disease  with  its  accompanying 
ills,  deprives  men  of  many  pleasures  greater  than  those  of  eat- 
ing and  drinking.  So  in  all  cases  when  we  say  men  are  over- 
come by  pleasure,  we  mean  that  they  are  overcome  by  a  lesser 
pleasure.  In  a  similar  way,  painful  things  are  sometimes 
spoken  of  as  good.  Burning,  cutting  and  starving,  as  em- 
ployed by  the  physician,  though  they  occasion  the  greatest 
immediate  suffering,  are  good  because  they  bring  afterwards 
health,  power,  and  wealth.  Since  even  pain  is  good  when  it 
takes  away  greater  pain  or  brings  pleasure,  and  since  pleasure 
is  evil  only  when  it  ends  in  pain  or  deprives  us  of  greater 
pleasure,  we  are  justified  in  saying  that  pleasure  is  good  and 
pain  evil.  Thus  it  becomes  clear  how  it  is  impossible  for 
a  man  knowingly  to  do  evil,  for  every  man  wishes  to  be 
happy  and  to  have  as  much  pleasure  and  as  little  pain  in  life  a 
possible.] 

If  you  weigh  pleasures  against  pleasures,  you  of  course  take 
the   more  and  greater ;  or  if  you  weigh  pains  against  pains, 


100  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

you  take  the  fewer  and  the  less  ;  or  if  pleasures  against  pains, 
then  you  choose  that  course  of  action  in  which  the  painful  is 
exceeded  by  the  pleasant,  whether  the  distant  by  the  near  or 
the  near  by  the  distant ;  and  you  avoid  that  course  of  action 
in  which  the  pleasant  is  exceeded  by  the  painful. 

[When  we  make  the  many  choices  in  life  whereby  we  en- 
deavor to  attain  a  sum  of  pleasures  greater  than  the  sum  of 
pains,  what  is  to  be  our  guide  to  right  choice  ?  In  the  physical 
world,  objects  appear  greater  when  near  and  smaller  when  re- 
mote, and  we  need  some  standard  of  measurement  in  order  to 
judge  truly  of  their  size.  We  have  seen  that  the  same  is  true 
in  the  case  of  pleasures  and  pains.  Distance  affects  their  ap- 
parent size.  We  are  in  danger  of  being  deceived  by  appear- 
ance, and  our  only  salvation  lies  in  an  ability  to  measure 
pleasures  and  pains  and  judge  rightly  of  their  true  size  and  re- 
lation.] 

Is  not  the  power  of  appearance  that  deceiving  art  which 
makes  us  wander  up  and  down  and  take  the  things  at  one 
time  of  which  we  repent  at  another,  both  in  our  actions 
and  in  our  choice  of  things  great  and  small  ?  But  the  art  of 
measurement  is  that  which  would  do  away  with  the  effect  of 
appearances,  and,  showing  the  truth,  would  fain  teach  the  soul 
at  last  to  find  rest  in  the  truth,  and  would  thus  save  our  life. 

[Since  this  sort  of  measuring  is  clearly  one  kind  of  knowl- 
edge, we  see  that  knowledge  is  the  mighty  and  ruling  principle 
in  human  life.  Ignorance  must  then  be  the  origin  of  all  evil, 
for  no  one  will  knowingly  pursue  a  course  of  evil  which  leads 
to  pain  when  he  knows  the  path  of  good  to  pleasure.  Hippias, 
Prodicus,  and  Protagoras  agree  with  this  conclusion. 

Socrates  now  returns  to  re-examine  the  virtue  of  courage 
in  the  light  of  what  has  just  been  said  about  knowledge.  Fear 
is  defined  as  expectation  of  evil.  A  man  will  not  voluntarily 
pursue  what  he  fears,  for  no  one  will  voluntarily  pursue  what 
he  thinks  to  be  evil.  Ignorance  causes  a  man  to  judge  that  to 
be  evil  which  is  not  evil.  The  cowardly  man  is  he  who 
through  ignorance  fears  that  which  is  really  not  evil.  For  ex- 
ample, the  coward  refuses  to  go  to  war  because  he  forms  a 
wrong  estimate  of  what  is  good,  honorable,  and  pleasurable. 


PROTAGORAS  IOI 

The  courageous  man  goes  to  war,  because  he  knows  it  will 
bring  future  honor  and  good ;  and  for  these  he  is  willing  to 
bear  the  present  pain.  Thus  we  see  courage  is  knowledge 
and  cowardice  is  ignorance.  The  five  virtues  which  Protago- 
ras at  first  held  to  be  different  in  nature  are  proven  to  be  one 
— wisdom.52     Protagoras  is  reluctant  to  assent. 

Socrates  closes  the  narration  of  the  dialogue  as  follows  :] 

My  only  object,  I  said,  in  continuing  the  discussion,  has 
been  the  desire  to  ascertain  the  relations  of  virtue  and  the  es- 
sential nature  of  virtue  ;  for  if  this  were  clear,  I  ahx  very 
sure  that  the  other  controversy  which  has  been  caTried  f 
on  at  great  length  by  both  of  us — you  affirming  and  I  deny- 
ing that  virtue  can  be  taught — would  also  have  become  clear. 
The  result  of  our  discussion  appears  to  me  to  be  singular.  For 
if  the  argument  has  a  human  voice,  that  voice  would  be  heard 
laughing  at  us  and  saying :  Protagoras  and  Socrates,  you  are 
strange  beings  ;  there  are  you  who  were  saying  that  virtue  can- 
not be  taught,  contradicting  yourself  now  in  the  attempt  to 
show  that  all  things  are  knowledge,  including  justice,  and 
temperance,  and  courage — which  tends  to  show  that  virtue 
can  certainly  be  taught ;  for  if  virtue  were  other  than  knowl- 
edge, as  Protagoras  attempted  to  show,  then  clearly  virtue 
cannot  be  taught ;  but  if  virtue  is  entirely  knowledge,  as  you, 
Socrates,  are  seeking  to  show,  then  I  cannot  but  suppose  that 
virtue  is  capable  of  being  taught.  Protagoras,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  started  by  saying  that  it  might  be  taught,  is  now 
eager  to  show  that  it  is  anything  rather  than  knowledge  ;  and 
if  this  is  true,  it  must  be  quite  incapable  of  being  taught.  Now 
I,  Protagoras,  perceiving  this  terrible  confusion  of  ideas,  have 
a  great  desire  that  they  should  be  cleared  up.  And  I  should 
like  to  carry  on  the  discussion  until  we  ascertain  what  virtue 
is,  and  whether  capable  of  being  taught  or  not,  lest  haply 
Epimetheus  should  trip  us  up  and  deceive  us  in  the  argument, 
as  he   forgot   to  provide  for  us    in   the   story ;  and   I   prefer 

52  "  He  (Socrates)  defines  all  the  particular  virtues  in  such  a  way  as  to 
make  them  consist  in  knowledge  of  some  kind,  the  difference  between  them 
being  determined  by  the  difference  of  their  objects.  He  is  pious  who 
knows  what  is  right  toward  God  ;  he  is  just  who  knows  what  is  right  toward 
men  ;  he  is  brave  who  knows  how  to  treat  dangers  properly  ;  he  is  prudent 
and  wise  who  knows  how  to  use  what  is  good  and  noble,  and  how  to  avoid 
what  is  evil.  In  a  word,  all  virtues  are  referred  to  wisdom  or  knowledge, 
which  are  one  and  the  same. "— Zeller's  Socrates,  Chap.  VII. 


102  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

your  Prometheus  to  your  Epimetheus :  of  him  I  make  use 
whenever  I  am  busy  about  these  questions  in  Promethean  care 
of  my  own  life.  And  if  you  have  no  objection,  as  I  said  at 
first,  I  should  like  to  have  your  help  in  the  inquiry. 

Protagoras  replied  :  Socrates,  I  am  not  of  a  base  nature, 
and  I  am  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  be  envious.  I  cannot 
but  applaud  your  enthusiasm  in  the  conduct  of  an  argument. 
As  I  have  often  said,  I  admire   you   above  all  men  whom  I 

\ktfdw>,;l:ert*iinly  above  all  men  of  your  age;  and  I  believe 
trhat  'yoirwill   become  very  eminent  in   philosophy.     Let  us 

.cpjije  back  fcrthe  subject  at  some  future  time ;  at  present  we 

•ha<$  befoerVufn  to  something  else. 

By  all  means,  I  said,  if  that  is  your  wish  ;  for  I  too  ought 
long  since  to  have  kept  the  engagement  of  which  I  spoke  be- 
fore, and  only  tarried  because  I  could  not  refuse  the  request 
of  the  noble  Callias.  This  finished  the  conversation,  and  we 
went  our  way. 


THE  SYMPOSIUM 


INTRODUCTION 

The  subject  of  the  Symposium  is  love.  Five  set  speeches 
are  made  upon  this  theme  besides  that  of  Alcibiades,  which, 
though  professedly  about  Socrates,  is  also  really  about  love. 
Phaedrus  dwells  especially  upon  love  as  an  incentive  to  cou- 
rageous deeds.  Pausanias  distinguishes  between  the  heavenly 
and  the  earthly  love.  Eryximachus,  the  physician,  seeks  to 
show  a  common  principle  in  the  love  of  the  body  and  the 
love  of  the  mind.  Aristophanes,  the  writer  of  comedy, 
under  the  guise  of  an  extravagant  myth,  suggests  that  man 
cannot  live  in  isolation,  that  love  is  the  necessary  mediator 
between  men,  and  that  the  love  of  the  world  is  a  type  of  the 
higher  love.  Agathon,  as  becomes  the  master  of  tragedy, 
makes  a  noble  poem  in  eloquent  praise  of  love  the  divine. 
The  earthly  love  is  'repeatedly  discussed  in  these  speeches 
with  a  frankness  which  seems  to  our  ears  very  gross.  Each 
of  the  speeches,  however,  makes  some  contribution  to  the 
theme,  which  Plato  considers  of  value.  Socrates  pretends  to 
have  been  instructed  as  to  the  sober  truth  about  love  by  a 
wise  woman,  Diotima.  \ln  a  word,  he  believes  that  love  is  a 
principle  which  ranges  all  the  way  from  animal  desire  to  the 
hunger  and  thirst  after  wisdom,  and  that  in  the  highest  as 
well  as  in  the  lowest  form  of  love,  the  soul  longs  to  beget 
the  likeness  of  itself  in  others.  True  love  is  not  love  of  the 
beautiful  for  itself  or  for  oneself  alone,  but  it  is  love  of  the 
"  birth  in  beauty  "  in  others.  In  such  fashion  does  Plato 
realize  the  idea  of  love  for  God  and  for  man. 

ios 


106  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

But  the  Symposium  is  not  simply  a  series  of  arguments. 
It  is  perhaps  more  evidently  than  any  other  of  Plato's  writ- 
ings, a  dramatic  portrayal  of  the  theme  and  of  the  varied 
views  of  men  about  the  theme.  The  five  speeches  preceding 
that  of  Socrates  are  doubtless  to  be  regarded  as  dramatic  in 
this  sense.  Besides  this,  many  incidents  of  the  story  illus- 
trate the  theme.  In  a  variety  of  ways  it  is  suggested  that 
Socrates  is  so  wholly  a  lover  of  truth  that  the  things  of  this 
world  are  nothing  to  him.  He  stands  in  the  snow  without 
feeling  it.  He  conducts  himself  in  battle  without  fear.  He 
drinks  and  is  not  made  drunk.  He  is  assailed  with  tempta- 
tion to  vice,  but  is  not  really  tempted.  Above  all  he  passes 
at  times  (two  instances  are  mentioned  in  the  dialogue)  into 
an  ecstatic  state  where  the  search  of  his  soul  after  truth  makes 
him  for  hours  completely  oblivious  to  all  earthly  things.  The 
best  illustration  of  the  nature  and  power  of  true  love  is  given 
in  the  speech  of  Alcibiades.1  Here  is  shown  in  the  most  per- 
fect way  that  strong  and  genuine  love  of  wisdom  and  holiness 
is,  inevitably,  also  strong  and  genuine  desire  and  power  to 
allure  others  toward  wisdom  and  holiness. 

A  word  of  warning  should  be  given.  As  Jowett  says, 
"  if  it  be  true  that  there  are  more  things  in  the  Symposium 
than  any  commentator  has  dreamed  of,  it  is  also  true  that 
many  things  have  been  imagined  which  are  not  really  to  be 
found  there."  Do  not  pigeon-hole  the  Symposium  after  one 
reading.  It  is  "  full  of  divine  and  golden  images,"  with 
which  a  life-time  is  not  too  long  to  make  full  acquaintance. 

1  See  General  Introduction,  page  xxx. 


THE  SYmP0S\UM-2^t1'TA^U^U' 


tt~L, 


.%-**-oy*sL*^ 


r  theT^lalc^ueT^v^-*  ^Jfte-*Jzt  5, 


Apollodoru^  w/w  nepeats  to  fits'"  PAusanias. 

Companion  the  dialogue  which  Eryximachus. 

he  had  heard  from  Aristodemus,  Aristophanes. 

and  had  already  once   narrated  Agathon. 

to  Glaucon.  Socrates. 

Pjledrus.  Alcibiades. 
A  Troop  of  Revelers. 


Scene  : — The  House  of  Agathon. 

I  believe  that  I  am  prepared  with  an  answer.  For  the  day 
before  yesterday  I  was  coming  from  my  own  home  at  Phal- 
erum 2  to  the  city,  and  one  of  my  acquaintance,  who 
had  caught  a  sight  of  the  back  of  me  at  a  distance,  stePh» 
in  merry  mood  commanded  me  to  halt  :  Apollo- 
dorus,  he  cried,  O  thou  man  of  Phalerum,  halt  !  So  I  did  as 
I  was  bid  ;  and  then  he  said,  I  was  looking  for  you,  Apollo- 
dorus,  only  just  now,  that  I  might  hear  about  the  discourses 
in  praise  of  love,  which  were  delivered  by  Socrates,  Alcibi- 
ades, and  others,  at  Agathon's  supper.  Phoenix  the  son  of 
Philip  told  another  person,  who  told  me  of  them,  and  he  said 
that  you  knew  ;  but  he  was  himself  very  indistinct,  and  I  wish 

1  Apollodorus(a-porio-do'rus).  friend  and  disciple  of  Socrates,  and  present 
at  his  death.     See  Phsedo,  59  and  117. 

Phaedrus  :  see  the  dialogue  Phasdrus. 

Pausanias  :  see  Protagoras,  315  and  note  22. 

Eryximachus  :  a  physician.  See  Protagoras,  315  and  note  18  ;  Phaedrus, 
268. 

Aristophanes  :  comic  poet.     See  Apology,  note  5. 

Agathon  (ag'a-thon, 400  B.C.)  :  an  Athenian  tragic  poet,  called  the  "  fair 

Agathon  "  on  account  of  his  extreme  beauty.     See  Protagoras,  315. 

Alcibiades  :  see  Protagoras,  note  1. 

2  Phalerum  (fa-le'rum)  :  one  of  the  harbors  of  Athens. 

107 


108  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

that  you  would  give  me  an  account  of  them.  Who  but  you 
should  be  the  reporter  of  the  words  of  your  friend  ?  And  first 
tell  me,  he  said,  were  you  present  at  this  meeting  ? 

Your  informant,  Glaucon,  I  said,  must  have  been  very  in- 
distinct indeed,  if  you  imagine  that  the  occasion  was  recent, 
or  that  I  could  have  been  present. 

Why,  yes,  he  replied,  that  was  my  impression. 

But  how  is  that  possible?  I  said.  For  Agathon  has  not 
been  in  Athens  for  many  years  (are  you  aware  of  that?),  and 
my  acquaintance  with  Socrates,  of  whose  every  action  and 
word  I  now  make  a  daily  study,  is  not  as  yet  of  three 
years'  standing.  I  used  to  be  running  about  the  world, 
thinking  that  I  was  doing  something,  and  would  have  done 
anything  rather  than  be  a  philosopher  :  I  >v*as"almost^as  miser- 
able as  you  are  now. 

Well,  he  said,  cease  from  jesting,  and^tell  me  when  the 
meeting  occurred.  :      \  v   •    \  i        * 

In  our  boyhood,  I  replied,  when  Agathon  won  the  prize 
with  his  first  tragedy,3  on  the  day  after  that  on  wrrrch  he  and 
his  chorus  offered  the  sacrifice  of  victory. 

That  is  a  long  while  ago,  he  said ;  and  who  told  you — did 
Socrates  ? 

No  indeed,  I  replied,  but  the  same  person  who  told  Phoe- 
nix ;  he  was  a  little  fellow,  who  never  wore  any  shoes,  Aris- 
todemus,  of  the  deme  of  Cydathenaeum.4  He  had  been  at 
this  feast ;  and  I  think  that  there  was  no  one  in  those  days 
who  was  a  more  devoted  admirer  of  Socrates.  Moreover,  I 
asked  Socrates  about  the  truth  of  some  parts  of  his  narrative, 
and  he  confirmed  them.  Then,  said  Glaucon,  let  us  have  the 
tale  over  again  ;  is  not  the  road  to  Athens  made  for  conversa- 
tion ?  And  so  we  walked,  and  talked  of  the  discourses  on 
love;  and  therefore,  as  I  said  at  first,  I  am  prepared  with  an 
answer,  and  will  have  another  rehearsal,  if  you  like.  For  I 
love  to  speak  or  to  hear  others  speak  of  philosophy  ;   there  is 

3  The  Greek  drama  had  its  origin  in  one  of  the  chief  religious  festivals 
of  the  people — the  Dionysia  (di'o-ny'sf-a).  It  was  originally  a  chorus,  sung 
in  honor  of  the  god  Dionysus  (di'o-ny'sus).  Later,  actors  were  introduced, 
but  the  chorus  was  retained.  The  drama  became  an  important  part  of  the 
festival.  Three  days  were  given  to  the  public  presentation  of  new  dramas. 
The  State  offered  prizes  to  the  contesting  authors.  The  first  prize  was  a 
crown,  publicly  presented.  This  was  the  highest  distinction  that  could  be 
conferred  on  a  dramatic  author  at  Athens. 

4Aristodemus  (a-ris'to-da'mus).     Cydathenaeum  (sid-ath-e-ne'um). 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  IO9 

the  greatest  pleasure  in  that,  to  say  nothing  of  the  profit.  But 
when  I  hear  any  other  discourses,  especially  those  of  you  rich 
men  and  traders,  they  are  irksome  to  me  j  and  I  pity  you  who 
are  my  companions,  because  you  always  think  that  you  are 
hard  at  work  when  really  you  are  idling.  And  I  dare  say 
that  you  pity  me  in  return,  whom  you  regard  as  an  unfortu- 
nate wight,  which  I  perhaps  am.  ^But  I  certainly  know  of  you 
what  you  only  think  of  me — there  is  the  difference. 

Companion.  I  see,  Apollodorus,  that  you  are  just  the  same, 
— always  speaking  evil  of  yourself,  and  of  others ;  and  I  do 
believe  that  you  pity  all  mankind,  beginning  with  yourself 
and  including  everybody  else  with  the  exception  of  Socrates, 
true  in  this  to  your  old  name,  which,  however  deserved,  I 
know  not  how  you  acquired,  of  Apollodorus  the  madman ; 
for  your  humor  is  always  to  be  out  of  humor  with  yourself 
and  with  everybody  except  Socrates. 

Apollodorus.  Yes,  friend,  and  I  am  proved  to  be  mad,  and 
out  of  my  wits,  because  I  have  these  notions  of  myself  and 
you  ;  no  other  evidence  is  required. 

Com.  I  have  no  wish  to  dispute  about  that,  Apollodorus  ;  but 
let  me  renew  my  request  that  you  would  repeat  the  tale  of  love. 

Apoll.  Well,  the  tale  of  love  was  on  this  wise:  But  per- 
haps I  had  better  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  endeavor 
to  repeat  to  you  the  words  as  Aristodemus  gave  them. 

He  said  that  he  met  Socrates  fresh  from  the  bath  and  san- 
daled ;  and  as  the  sight  of  the  sandals  was  unusual,  he  asked 
him  whither  he  was  going  that  he  was  so  fine. 

To  a  banquet  at  Agathon's,  he  replied,  whom  I  refused  yes- 
terday, fearing  the  crowd  that  there  would  be  at  his  sacrifice, 
but  promising  that  I  would  come  to-day  instead  ;  and  I  have 
put  on  my  finery  because  he  is  a  fine  creature.  What  say  you 
to  going  with  me  unbidden  ? 

Yes,  I  replied,  I  will  go  with  you,  if  you  like. 

Follow  then,  he  said,  and  let  us  demolish  the  proverb  that — 

"  To  the  feasts  of  lesser  men  the  good  unhidden  go ;  " 

instead  of  which  our  proverb  will  run  that — 

"  To  the  feasts  of  the  good  unbidden  go  the  good  ;" 

and  this  alteration  may  be  supported  by  the  authority  of 
Homer,  who  not  only  demolishes  but  literally  outrages  this 


IIO  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

proverb.  For  after  picturing  Agamemnon  5  as  the  most  valiant 
of  men,  he  makes  Menelaus,  who  is  but  a  soft-hearted  warrior, 
come  of  his  own  accord  to  the  sacrificial  feast  of  Agamemnon, 
the  worse  to  the  better. 

I  am  afraid,  Socrates,  said  Aristodemus,  that  I  shall  rather 
be  the  inferior  person,  who,  like  Menelaus  in  Homer, — 

"To  the  feasts  of  the  wise  unbidden  goes." 

But  I  shall  say  that  I  was  bidden  of  you,  and  then  you  will 
have  to  make  the  excuse. 

"  Two  going  together," 

he  replied,  in  Homeric  fashion,  may  invent  an  excuse  by  the  way. 

This  was  the  style  of  their  conversation  as  they  went  along; 
and  a  comical  thing  happened — Socrates  stayed  behind  in  a 
fit  of  abstraction,  and  desired  Aristodemus,  who  was  waiting, 
to  go  on  before  him.  When  he  reached  the  house  of  Agathon 
he  found  the  doors  wide  open,  and  a  servant  coming  out  met 
him,  and  led  him  at  once  into  the  banqueting-hall  in  which  the 
guests  were  reclining,  for  the  banquet  was  about  to  begin. 
Welcome,  Aristodemus,  said  Agathon  ;  you  are  just  in  time  to 
sup  with  us ;  if  you  come  on  any  other  errand  put  that  off, 
and  make  one  of  us,  as  I  was  looking  for  you  yesterday  and 
meant  to  have  asked  you,  if  I  could  have  found  you.  But 
what  have  you  done  with  Socrates  ? 

I  turned  round  and  saw  that  Socrates  was  missing,  and  I 
had  to  explain  that  he  had  been  with  me  a  moment  before, 
and  that  I  came  by  his  invitation. 

You  were  quite  right  in  coming,  said  Agathon  ;  and  where 
is  he  himself? 

He  was  behind  me  just  now,  as  I  entered,  he  said,  and 
I  cannot  think  what  has  become  of  him. 

Go  and  look  for  him,  boy,  said  Agathon,  and  bring  him  in; 
do  you,  Aristodemus,  meanwhile  take  the  place  by  Eryximachus. 

Then  he  said  that  the  attendant  assisted  him  to  wash,  and 
that  he  lay  down,  and  presently  another  servant  came  in  and 
said  that  our  friend  Socrates  had  retired  into  the  portico  of  the 
neighboring  house.  "  There  he  is  fixed,  and  when  I  call  to 
him,"   said  the  servant,  "  he  will  not  stir." 

How  strange,  said  Agathon  ;  then  you  must  call  him  again, 
and  keep  calling  him. 

6  See  Apology,  note  21. 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  III 

Let  him  alone,  said  my  informant ;  he  has  just  a  habit  of 
stopping  anywhere  and  losing  himself  without  any  reason  ; 
don't  disturb  him,  as  I  believe  he  will  soon  appear. 

Well,  if  you  say  that,  I  will  not  interfere  with  him,  said 
Agathon.  My  domestics,  who  on  these  occasions  become  my 
masters,  shall  entertain  us  as  their  guests.  "  Put  on  the  table 
whatever  you  like,"  he  said  to  the  servants,  "  as  usual  when 
there  is  no  one  to  give  you  orders,  which  I  never  do.  Imagine 
that  you  are  our  hosts,  and  that  I  and  the  company  are  your 
guests;  and  treat  us  well,  and  then  we  shall  commend  you." 
After  this  they  supped  ;  and  during  the  meal  Agathon  several 
times  expressed  a  wish  to  send  for  Socrates,  but  Aristodemus 
would  not  allow  him  ;  and  when  the  feast  was  half  over — for 
the  fit,  as  usual,  was  not  of  long  duration — Socrates  entered. 
Agathon,  who  was  reclining  alone  at  the  end  of  the  table, 
begged  that  he  would  take  the  place  next  to  him  ;  that  I  may 
touch  the  sage,  he  said,  and  get  some  of  that  wisdom  which 
came  into  your  mind  in  the  portico.  For  I  am  certain  that  you 
would  not  have  left  until  you  had  found  what  you  were  seeking. 

How  I  wish,  said  Socrates,  taking  his  place  as  he  was  de- 
sired, that  wisdom  could  be  infused  through  the  medium  of 
touch,  out  of  the  full  into  the  empty  man,  like  the  water 
which  the  wool  sucks  out  of  the  full  vessel  into  an  empty  one ; 
in  that  case  how  much  I  should  prize  sitting  by  you !  For  you 
would  have  filled  me  full  of  gifts  of  wisdom,  plenteous  and 
fair,  in  comparison  of  which  my  own  is  of  a  very  mean  and 
questionable  sort,  no  better  than  a  dream ;  but  yours  is  bright 
and  only  beginning,  and  was  manifested  forth  in  all  the 
splendor  of  youth  the  day  before  yesterday,  in  the  presence  of 
more  than  thirty  thousand  Hellenes.6 

You  are  insolent,  said  Agathon;  and  you  and  I  will  have  to 
settle  hereafter  who  bears  off  the  palm  of  wisdom,  and  of  this 
Dionysus7  shall  be  the  judge;  but  at  present  you  are  better 
occupied  with  the  banquet.  6 

Socrates  took  his  place  on  the  couch ;  and  when  the 
meal  was  ended,  and  the  libations  offered,  and  after  a  hymn 
had  been  sung  to  the  God,  and  there  had  been  the  usual  cere- 
monies,— as  they  were  about  to  commence  drinking,  Pausanias 
reminded  them  that  they  had  had  a  bout  yesterday,  from  which 

•Greeks.     See  Protagoras,  note  IX. 

»  The  god  whose  festival  the  city  was  then  celebrating. 


112  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

he  and  most  of  them  were  still  suffering,  and  they  ought  to  be 
allowed  to  recover,  and  not  go  on  drinking  to-day.  He  would 
therefore  ask,  How  the  drinking  could  be  made  easiest  ? 

I  entirely  agree,  said  Aristophanes,  that  we  should,  by  all 
means,  get  off  the  drinking,  having  been  myself  one  of  those 
who  were  yesterday  drowned  in  drink. 

I  think  that  you  are  right,  said  Eryximachus  the  son  of 
Acumen  us ;  but  I  should  like  to  hear  one  other  person  speak. 
What  are  the  inclinations  of  our  host  ? 

I  am  not  able  to  drink,  said  Agathon. 

Then,  said  Eryximachus,  the  weak  heads  like  myself,  Aristo- 
demus,  Phsedrus,  and  others  who  never  can  drink,  are  fortunate 
in  finding  that  the  stronger  ones  are  not  in  a  drinking  mood. 
(I  do  not  include  Socrates,  who  is  an  exceptional  being,  and 
able  either  to  drink  or  to  abstain.)  Well,  then,  as  the  company 
seem  indisposed  to  drink  much,  I  may  be  forgiven  for  saying, 
as  a  physician,  that  drinking  is  a  bad  practice,  which  I  never, 
if  I  can  help,  follow,  and  certainly  do  not  recommend  to  an- 
other, least  of  all  to  any  one  who  still  feels  the  effects  of 
yesterday's  carouse. 

I  always  follow  what  you  advise,  and  especially  what  you 
prescribe  as  a  physician,  rejoined  Phaedrus  the  Myrrhinusian, 
and  the  rest  of  the  company,  if  they  are  wise,  will  do  the  same. 

All  agreed  that  drinking  was  not  to  be  the  order  of  the  day. 
Then,  said  Eryximachus,  as  you  are  all  agreed  that  drinking 
is  to  be  voluntary,  and  that  there  is  to  be  no  compulsion,  I 
move,  in  the  next  place,  that  the  flute  girl,  who  has  just  made 
her  appearance,  be  told  to  go  away ;  she  may  play  to  herself, 
or,  if  she  has  a  mind,  to  the  women  who  are  within.  But  on 
this  day  let  us  have  conversation  instead ;  and,  if  you  will 
allow  me,  I  will  tell  you  what  sort  of  conversation.  This 
proposal  having  been  accepted,  Eryximachus  proceeded 
as  follows  : — 

I  will  begin,  he  said,  after  the  manner  of  Melanippe  in 
Euripides 8, — 

"Not  mine  the  word" 

which  I  am  about  to  speak,  but  that  of  Phaedrus.  For  he  is 
in   the  habit  of  complaining  that,  whereas  other  gods  have 

8  Euripides  (u-rfp'i-dez,  480-406  B.C.):  a  celebrated  Athenian  tragic  poet. 
Melanippe  (meTa-nfp'pe) :  a  character  in  a  lost  play  by  him. 


THE  SYMPOSIUM 


113 


poems  and  hymns  made  in  their  honor  by  the  poets,  who  are 
so  many,  the  great  and  glorious  god,  Love,  has  not  a  single 
panegyrist  or  encomiast.  Many  Sophists  also,  as  for  example 
the  excellent  Prodicus,9  have  descanted  in  prose  on  the  virtues 
of  Heracles10  and  other  heroes;  and,  what  is  still  more  extra- 
ordinary, I  have  met  with  a  philosophical  work  in  which  the 
utility  of  salt  has  been  made  the  theme  of  an  eloquent  dis- 
course; and  many  other  like  things  have  had  a  like  honor 
bestowed  upon  them.  And  only  to  think  that  there  should 
have  been  an  eager  interest  created  about  them,  and  yet  that 
to  this  day,  as  Phaedrus  well  and  truly  says,  no  one  has  ever 
dared  worthily  to  hymn  Love's  praises.  This  mighty  deity 
has  been  neglected  wholly  !  Now  I  want  to  offer  Phaedrus  a 
contribution  to  his  feast;  nor  do  I  see  how  the  present  com- 
pany can,  at  this  moment,  do  anything  better  than  honor  the 
god  Love.  And  if  you  agree  to  this,  there  will  be  no  lack  of 
conversation ;  for  I  mean  to  propose  that  each  of  us  in  turn 
shall  make  a  discourse  in  honor  of  Love.  Let  us  have 
the  best  which  he  can  make;  and  Phaedrus,  who  is  sitting 
first  on  the  left  hand,  and  is  the  father  of  the  thought,  shall 
begin. 

No  one  will  oppose  that,  Eryximachus,  said  Socrates;  I  cer- 
tainly cannot  refuse  to  speak  on  the  only  subject  of  which  I 
profess  to  have  any  knowledge,  and  Agathon  and  Pausanias 
will  surely  assent ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  Aristophanes, 
who  is  always  in  the  company  of  Dionysus n  and  Aphro- 
dite12; nor  will  any  one  disagree  of  those  whom  I  see  around 
me.  The  proposal,  as  I  am  aware,  may  seem  hard  upon  us 
whose  place  is  last;  but  that  does  not  matter  if  we  hear  some 
good  speeches  first.  Let  Phaedrus  begin  the  praise  of  „ 
Love,  and  good  luck  to  him.  All  the  company  ex-  '  " 
pressed  their  assent,  and  desired  him  to  do  as  Socrates 
bade  him. 

["  Phaedrus  began   by  affirming   that   Love  is   a  mighty 
god,  and  wonderful  among  gods  and  men,  but  especially  won- 

9  See  Protagoras,  note  1. 

10  See  Euthydemus,  note  20. 

11  God  of  wine — the  Roman  Bacchus. 

12  Aphrodite  (af'ro-di'te):  goddess  of  love  and  beauty,  corresponding  to 
the  Roman  Venus. 

8 


114  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

derful  in  his  birth. "  He  is  the  oldest  of  the  gods  and  without 
parentage.     As  Hesiod  says  : 

"  First  Chaos  came,  and  then  broad-bosomed  Earth, 
The  everlasting  seat  of  all  that  is, 
And  Love." 

Parmenides  13  agrees  with  Hesiod.  Love  is  not  only  the  old- 
est but  also  the  most  beneficent  of  the  gods.  The  greatest 
blessing  to  any  youth  is  to  love  and  be  loved.  Love  im- 
plants in  the  youth  the  sense  of  honor.  The  veriest  coward 
becomes  an  inspired  hero  when  the  god  breathes  love  into  his 
soul.  An  army  of  lovers,  though  a  mere  handful,  would  over- 
come the  world.  For  love  a  man  will  surrender  his  life  as 
Alcestis u  did  for  her  husband,  and  as  Achilles 15  did  to 
avenge  the  death  of  his  friend.] 

Now  Achilles  was  quite  aware,  for  he  had  been  told  by  his 
mother,  that  he  might  avoid  death  and  return  home,  and  live 
to  a  good  old  age,  if  he  abstained  from  slaying  Hector.  Nev- 
ertheless he  gave  his  life  to  revenge  his  friend,  and  dared  to 
die,  not  only  on  his  behalf,  but  after  his  death.  Wherefore 
the  gods  honored  him  even  above  Alcestis,  and  sent  him  to 
the  Islands  of  the  Blest.  These  are  my  reasons  for  affirming 
that  Love  is  the  eldest  and  noblest  and  mightiest  of  the  gods, 
and  the  chiefest  author  and  giver  of  happiness  and  virtue,  in 
life  and  after  death. 

This,  or  something  like  this,  was  the  speech  of  Phaedrus  ; 
and  some  other  speeches  followed  which  Aristodemus  did  not 
remember ;  the  next  which  he  repeated  was  that  of  Pausanias. 

[Pausanias  said  that  the  speech  of  Phaedrus  had  assumed 
that  there  was  only  one  love,  whereas  there  are  really  two — 
one  a  heavenly,  the  other  a  common.  Pausanias  character- 
ized these  two  kinds  of  love  as  follows  :] 

Evil  is  the  vulgar  lover  who  loves  the  body  rather  than  the 
soul,  and  who  is  inconstant  because  he  is  a  lover  of  the  incon- 

13  Parmenides  (par-men'i-dez,  520? B.C.):   a  Greek  philosopher  and 

poet. 

14  Alcestis  (ai-ses'tis):  the  beautiful  young  wife  of  Admetus  (Sd-me'tus),  a 
mythical  king  of  Thessaly.  She  sacrificed  her  own  life  to  save  that  of  her 
husband  when  the  Fates  decreed  that  he  could  live  only  on  condition  that 
some  one  die  in  his  stead. 

15  See  Apology,  note  21. 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  H5 

stant ;  and  therefore  when  the  bloom  of  youth  which  he  was 
desiring  is  over,  he  takes  wings  and  flies  away,  in  spite  of  all 
his  words  and  promises  ;  whereas  the  love  of  the  noble  mind, 
which  is  in  union  with  the  unchangeable,  is  everlasting. 
.  .  .  This  is  that  love  which  is  the  love  of  the  heavenly 
goddess,  and  is  heavenly,  and  of  great  price  to  individuals 
and  cities,  making  the  lover  and  the  beloved  alike  eager  in  the 
work  of  their  own  improvement.  But  all  other  loves  are  the 
offspring  of  the  common  or  vulgar  goddess.  To  you,  Phae- 
drus,  I  offer  this  my  encomium  of  love,  which  is  as  good  as  I 
could  make  on  the  sudden. 

When  Pausanias  came  to  a  pause  (this  is  the  balanced  way 
in  which  I  have  been  taught  by  the  wise  to  speak),  Aristode- 
mus  said  that  the  turn  of  Aristophanes  was  next,  but  that 
either  he  had  eaten  too  much,  or  from  some,  other  cause  he  had 
the  hiccough,  and  was  obliged  to  change  with  Eryximachus 
the  physician,  who  was  reclining  on  the  couch  below  him. 
Eryximachus,  he  said,  you  ought  either  to  stop  my  hiccough, 
or  to  speak  in  my  turn  until  I  am  better. 

I  will  do  both,  said  Eryximachus  :  I  will  speak  in  your 
turn,  and  do  you  speak  in  mine;  and  while  I  am  speaking  let 
me  recommend  you  to  hold  your  breath,  and  if  this  fails,  then 
to  gargle  with  a  little  water  ;  and  if  the  hiccough  still  con- 
tinues, tickle  your  nose  with  something  and  sneeze ;  and  if 
yon  sneeze  once  or  twice,  even  the  most  violent  hiccough  is 
sure  to  go.  In  the  mean  time  I  will  take  your  turn,  and  you 
shall  take  mine.  I  will  do  as  you  prescribe,  said  Aristophanes, 
and  now  get  on. 

[Eryximachus  constructed  a  myth  whose  purpose  was  to 
show  that  love  is  the  principle  of  unity  and  health  in  body 
and  soul  and  in  all  nature.     He  concluded  as  follows :] 

And  that  love,  especially,  which  is  concerned  with  the 
good,  and  which  is  perfected  in  company  with  temperance  and 
justice,  whether  among  gods  or  men,  has  the  greatest  power, 
and  is  the  source  of  all  our  happiness  and  harmony  and  friend- 
ship with  the  gods  which  are  above  us,  and  with  one  another. 
I  dare  say  that  I  have  omitted  several  things  which  might  be 
said  in  praise  of  Love,  but  this  was  not  intentional,  and  you, 
Aristophanes,   may  now  supply  the  omission    or   take  some 


Il6  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

other  line  of  commendation ;  as  I  perceive  that  you  are  cured 
of  the  hiccough. 

Yes,  said  Aristophanes,  who  followed,  the  hiccough 

1  ■       is  gone ;  not,  however,  until  I  applied  the  sneezing ;  and 

I  wonder  whether  the  principle  of  order  in  the  human 

frame  requires  this  sort  of  noises  and  ticklings,  for  I  no  sooner 

applied  the  sneezing  than  I  was  cured. 

Eryximachus  said  :  Take  care,  friend  Aristophanes,  you  are 
beginning  with  a  joke,  and  I  shall  have  to  watch  if  you  talk 
nonsense;  and  the  interruption  will  be  occasioned  by  your 
own  fault. 

You  are  very  right,  said  Aristophanes,  laughing,  and  I  will 
retract  what  I  said ;  and  do  you  please  not  to  watch  me,  as  I 
fear  that  in  what  I  am  going  to  say,  instead  of  making  others 
laugh,  which  is  to  the  manner  born  of  our  muse  and  would  be 
all  the  better,  I  shall  only  be  laughed  at  by  them. 

[Aristophanes  related  another  myth  in  which  he  repre- 
sented that  the  principle  of  all  human  activity  is  desire  to 
complete  our  deficiencies  and  attain  wholeness  and  unity  of 
life.     He  concluded  as  follows  :] 

And  I  believe  that  if  all  of  us  obtained  our  love,  and  each 
one  had  his  particular  beloved,  thus  returning  to  his  original 
nature,  then  our  race  would  be  happy.  And  if  this  would  be 
best  of  all,  that  which  would  be  best  under  present  circum- 
stances would  be  the  nearest  approach  to  such  a  union ;  and 
that  will  be  the  attainment  of  a  congenial  love.  Therefore 
we  shall  do  well  to  praise  the  god  Love,  who  is  the  author  of 
this  gift,  and  who  is  also  our  greatest  benefactor,  leading  us  in 
this  life  back  to  our  own  nature,  and  giving  us  high  hopes  for 
the  future,  that  if  we  are  pious,  he  will  restore  us  to  our  origi- 
nal state,  and  heal  us  and  make  us  happy  and  blessed.  This, 
Eryximachus,  is  my  discourse  of  love,  which,  although  differ- 
ent from  yours,  I  must  beg  you  to  leave  unassailed  by  the 
shafts  of  your  ridicule,  in  order  that  each  may  have  his  turn  ; 
each,  or  rather  either,  for  Agathon  and  Socrates  are  the  only 
ones  left. 

Indeed,  I  am  not  going  to  attack  you,  said  Eryximachus, 
for  I  thought  your  speech  charming,  and  did  I  not  know  that 
Agathon  and  Socrates  are  masters  in  the  art  of  love,  I  should 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  II7 

be  really  afraid  that  they  would  have  nothing  to  say,  after  all 
the  world  of  things  which  have  been  said  already.  But,  for  all 
that,  I  am  not  without  hopes. 

Socrates  said  :  You  did  your  part  well,  Eryximachus ;  ,9^ 
but  if  you  were  as  I  am  now,  or  rather  as  I  shall  be  when  Ag- 
athon  has  spoken,  you  would,  indeed,  be  in  a  great  strait. 

You  want  to  cast  a  spell  over  me,  Socrates,  said  Agathon, 
in  the  hope  that  I  may  be  disconcerted,  thinking  of  the  antic- 
ipation which  the  theatre  has  of  my  fine  speech. 

I  should  be  strangely  forgetful,  Agathon,  replied  Socrates, 
of  the  courage  and  magnanimity  which  you  showed  when 
your  own  compositions  were  about  to  be  exhibited,  coming 
upon  the  stage  with  the  actors  and  facing  the  whole  theatre 
altogether  undismayed,  if  I  thought  that  your  nerves  could  be 
fluttered  at  a  small  party  of  friends. 

Do  you  think,  Socrates,  said  Agathon,  that  my  head  is 
so  full  of  the  theatre  as  not  to  know  how  much  more  for- 
midable to  a  man  of  sense  a  few  good  judges  are  than  many 
fools  ? 

Nay,  replied  Socrates,  I  should  be  very  wrong  in  attribut- 
ing to  you,  Agathon,  that  or  any  other  want  of  refinement. 
And  I  am  quite  aware  that  if  you  happened  to  meet  with  any 
one  whom  you  thought  wise,  you  would  care  for  his  opinion 
much  more  than  for  that  of  the  many.  But  then  we,  having 
been  a  part  of  the  foolish  many  in  the  theatre,  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  the  select  wise ;  though  I  know  that  if  you  chanced 
to  light  upon  a  really  wise  man,  you  would  be  ashamed  of 
disgracing  yourself  before  him, — would  you  not  ? 

Yes,  said  Agathon. 

But  you  would  not  be  ashamed  of  disgracing  yourself  before 
the  many  ? 

Here  Phaedrus  interrupted  them,  saying:  Don't  answer 
him,  my  dear  Agathon  j  for  if  he  can  only  get  a  partner  with 
whom  he  can  talk,  especially  a  good-looking  one,  he  will  no 
longer  care  about  the  completion  of  our  plan.  Now  I  love  to 
hear  him  talk  j  but  just  at  present  I  must  not  forget  the  enco- 
mium on  Love  which  I  ought  to  receive  from  him  and  every 
one.  When  you  and  he  have  paid  the  tribute  to  the  God, 
then  you  may  talk. 

Very  good,  Phaedrus,  said  Agathon  ;  I  see  no  reason  why 
I  should  not  proceed  with  my  speech,  as  I  shall  have  other 


Il8  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

opportunities  of  conversing  with  Socrates.  Let  me  say  first 
how  I  ought  to  speak,  and  then  speak. 

The  previous  speakers,  instead  of  praising  the  god  Love,  or 
unfolding  his  nature,  appear  to  have  congratulated  mankind 
on  the  benefits  which  he  confers  upon  them.  But  I 
would  rather  praise  the  God  first,  and  then  speak  of  his 
gifts  ;  this  is  always  the  right  way  of  praising  everything. 
May  I  express  unblamed  then,  that  of  all  the  blessed  gods  he 
is  the  blessedest  and  the  best  ?  And  also  the  fairest,  which  I 
prove  in  this  way :  for,  in  the  first  place,  Phaedrus,  he  is  the 
youngest,  and  of  his  youth  he  is  himself  the  witness,  fleeing 
out  of  the  way  of  age,  which  is  swift  enough  surely,  swifter 
than  most  of  us  like :  yet  he  cannot  be  overtaken  by  him ;  he 
is  not  a  bird  of  that  feather ;  youth  and  love  live  and  move 
together, — like  to  like,  as  the  proverb  says.  There  are  many 
things  which  Phaedrus  said  about  Love  in  which  I  agree  with 
him ;  but  I  cannot  agree  that  he  is  older  than  Iapetus 16  and 
Kronos  17 — that  is  not  the  truth ;  as  I  maintain,  he  is  the 
youngest  of  the  gods,  and  youthful  ever.  The  ancient  things 
of  which  Hesiod  and  Parmenides  speak,  if  they  were  done  at 
all,  were  done  of  necessity  and  not  of  love;  had  love  been  in 
those  days,  there  would  have  been  no  chaining  or  mutilation 
of  the  gods,  or  other  violence,  but  peace  and  sweetness,  as 
there  is  now  in  heaven,  since  the  rule  of  Love  began.  Love 
is  young  and  also  tender  ;  he  ought  to  have  a  poet  like  Homer 
to  describe  his  tenderness,  as  Homer  says  of  Ate,18  that  she  is 
a  goddess  and  tender: — 

"  Her  feet  are  tender,  for  she  sets  her  steps, 
Not  on  the  ground  but  on  the  heads  of  men :  " 

which  is  an  excellent  proof  of  her  tenderness,  because  she 
walks  not  upon  the  hard  but  upon  the  soft.  Let  us  adduce  a 
similar  proof  of  the  tenderness  of  Love  ;  for  he  walks  not  upon 
the  earth,  nor  yet  upon  the  skulls  of  men,  which  are  hard 
enough,  but  in  the  hearts  and  souls  of  men  :  in  them  he  walks 
and  dwells  and  has  his  home.      Not  in  every  soul  without  ex- 

16  Iapetus  (i-ap'e-tus):  an  ancient  Greek  divinity,  son  of  Uranus  (Heaven), 
and  Gaea  (Earth).  The  Greeks  regarded  him  as  the  ancestor  of  the  human 
race. 

17  Kronos  (kro'nos):  brother  of  Iapetus,  and  father  of  Zeus. 

18  Ate  (a  'te):  the  goddess  of  infatuation;  also  the  avenger  of  unrighteousness. 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  119 

ception,  for  where  there  is  hardness  he  departs,  where  there  is 
softness  there  he  dwells  ;  and  clinging  always  with  his  feet  and 
in  all  manner  of  ways  in  the  softest  of  soft  places,  how  can  he 
be  other  than  the  softest  of  all  things?  And  he  is  the 
youngest  as  well  as  the  tenderest,  and  also  he  is  of  flex- 
ile  form  ;  for  without  flexure  he  could  not  enfold  all  things, 
or  wind  his  way  into  and  out  of  every  soul  of  man  without 
being  discovered,  if  he  were  hard.  And  a  proof  of  his  flex- 
ibility and  symmetry  of  form  is  his  grace,  which  is  univer- 
sally admitted  to  be  in  an  especial  manner  the  attribute  of 
Love  ;  ungrace  and  love  are  always  at  war  with  one  another. 
The  fairness  of  his  complexion  is  revealed  by  his  habitation 
among  the  flowers,  for  he  dwells  not  amid  unflowering  or  fad- 
ing beauties,  whether  of  body  or  soul  or  aught  else,  but  in  the 
place  of  flowers  and  scents,  there  he  dwells  and  abides.  Enough 
of  his  beauty, — of  which,  however,  there  is  more  to  tell.  But  I 
must  now  speak  of  his  virtue  :  his  greatest  glory  is  that  he  can 
neither  do  nor  suffer  wrong  from  any  god  or  any  man ;  for  he 
suffers  not  by  force  if  he  suffers,  for  force  comes  not  near  him, 
neither  does  he  act  by  force.  For  all  serve  him  of  their  own 
free-will,  and  where  there  is  love  as  well  as  obedience,  there, 
as  the  laws  which  are  the  lords  of  the  city  say,  is  justice.  And 
not  only  is  he  just  but  exceedingly  temperate,  for  Temperance 
is  the  acknowledged  ruler  of  the  pleasures  and  desires,  and  no 
pleasure  ever  masters  Love  ;  he  is  their  master  and  they  are 
his  servants ;  and  if  he  conquers  them  he  must  be  temperate 
indeed.  As  to  courage,  even  the  God  of  War  is  no  match  for 
him  ;  he  is  the  captive  and  Love  is  the  lord,  for  love,  the 
love  of  Aphrodite,  masters  him,  as  the  tale  runs;  and  the 
master  is  stronger  than  the  servant.  And  if  he  conquers  the 
bravest  of  all  he  must  be  himself  the  bravest.  Of  his  courage 
and  justice  and  temperance  I  have  spoken  ;  but  I  have  yet  to 
speak  of  his  wisdom,  and  I  must  try  to  do  my  best,  accord- 
ing to  the  measure  of  my  ability.  For  in  the  first  place  he  is 
a  poet  (and  here,  like  Eryximachus,  I  magnify  my  art),  and 
he  is  also  the  source  of  poesy  in  others,  which  he  could  not  be 
if  he  were  not  himself  a  poet.  And  at  the  touch  of  him  every 
one  becomes  a  poet,  even  though  he  had  no  music  in  him  be- 
fore ;  this  also  is  a  proof  that  Love  is  a  good  poet  and  accom- 
plished in  all  the  musical  arts  ;  for  no  one  can  give  to  another 
that  which  he  has  not  himself,  or  teach  that  of  which  he  has 


120  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

no  knowledge.  Who  will  deny  that  the  creation  of  the  ani- 
mals is  his  doing  ?  Are  they  not  all  the  works  of  his  wisdom, 
born  and  begotten  of  him  ?  And  as  to  the  artists,  do  we 
7  not  know  that  he  only  of  them  whom  love  inspires  has  the 
light  of  fame  ? — he  whom  love  touches  not  walks  in  darkness. 
The  arts  of  medicine  and  archery  and  divination  were  dis- 
covered by  Apollo,19  under  the  guidance  of  love  and  desire,  so 
that  he  too  is  a  disciple  of  Love.  Also  the  melody  of  the 
Muses,20  the  metallurgy  of  Hephaestus,21  the  weaving  of 
Athene,22  the  empire  of  Zeus 23  over  gods  and  men,  are  all 
due  to  Love,  who  was  the  inventor  of  them.  Love  set  in 
order  the  empire  of  the  gods, — the  love  of  beauty,  as  is  evi- 
dent, for  of  deformity  there  is  no  love.  And  formerly,  as  I 
was  saying,  dreadful  deeds  were  done  among  the  gods,  because 
of  the  rule  of  necessity ;  but  now  since  the  birth  of  Love,  and 
from  the  love  of  the  beautiful,  has  sprung  every  good  in 
heaven  and  earth.  Therefore,  Phaedrus,  I  say  of  Love  that  he 
is  the  fairest  and  best  in  himself,  and  the  cause  of  what  is 
fairest  and  best  in  all  other  things.  And  I  have  a  mind  to 
say  of  him  in  verse  that  he  is  the  god  who — 

u  Gives  peace  on  earth  and  calms  the  stormy  deep, 
Who  stills  the  waves  and  bids  the  sufferer  sleep." 

He  makes  men  to  be  of  one  mind  at  a  banquet  such  as  this, 
fulfilling  them  with  affection  and  emptying  them  of  disaffec- 
tion. In  sacrifices,  banquets,  dances,  he  is  our  lord, — sup- 
plying kindness  and  banishing  unkindness,  giving  friendship 
and  forgiving  enmity,  the  joy  of  the  good,  the  wonder  of  the 
wise,  the  amazement  of  the  gods ;  desired  by  those  who  have 
no  part  in  him,  and  precious  to  those  who  have  the  better  part 
in  him  j  parent  of  delicacy,  luxury,  desire,  fondness,  softness, 
grace ;  careful  of  the  good,  uncareful  of  the  evil.  In  every 
word,  work,  wish,  fear, — pilot,  helper,  defender,  saviour ; 
glory  of  gods  and  men,  leader  best  and  brightest :  in  whose 
footsteps  let  every  man  follow,  chanting  a  hymn  and  joining 

19  One  of  the  greatest  and  most  beneficent  of  the  Greek  gods,  commonly 
called  the  god  of  light. 

20  See  Euthydemus,  note  12. 

21  See  Protagoras,  note  39. 

22  See  Protagoras,  note  40. 

23  See  Protagoras,  note  41. 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  121 

in  that  fair  strain  with  which  Love  charms  the  souls  of  gods 
and  men.     Such  is  the  discourse,  Phaedrus,  half  playful,  yet 
having  a  certain  measure  of  seriousness,  which,  accord- 
ing to  my  ability,  I  dedicate  to  the  God.  l9 

When  Agathon  had  done  speaking,  Aristodemus  said  that 
there  was  a  general  cheer  ;  the  fair  youth  was  thought  to  have 
spoken  in  a  manner  worthy  of  himself,  and  of  the  God.  And 
Socrates,  looking  at  Eryximachus,  said  :  Tell  me,  son  of 
Acumenns,  was  I  not  a  prophet  ?  Did  I  not  anticipate  that 
Agathon  would  make  a  wonderful  oration,  and  that  I  should 
be  in  a  strait  ? 

I  think,  said  Eryximachus,  that  you  were  right  in  the  first 
anticipation,  but  not  in  the  second. 

Why,  my  dear  friend,  said  Socrates,  must  not  I  or  any  one 
be  in  a  strait  who  has  to  speak  after  such  a  rich  and  varied 
discourse  as  that  ?  I  am  especially  struck  with  the  beauty  of 
the  concluding  words — who  could  listen  to  them  without 
amazement  ?  When  I  reflected  on  the  immeasurable  inferior- 
ity of  my  own  powers,  I  was  ready  to  run  away  for  shame,  if 
there  had  been  any  escape.  For  I  was  reminded  of  Gorgias,24 
and  at  the  end  of  his  speech  I  fancied  that  Agathon  was  shak- 
ing at  me  the  Gorginian  or  Gorgonian  head  of  the  great  master 
of  rhetoric,  which  was  simply  to  turn  me  and  my  speech  into 
stone,  as  Homer  says,  and  strike  me  dumb.  And  then  I  per- 
ceived how  foolish  I  had  been  in  consenting  to  take  my  turn 
with  you  in  praising  love,  and  saying  that  I  too  was  a  master 
of  the  art,  when  I  really  had  no  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the 
word  "  praise,"  which  appears  to  be  another  name  for  glorifi- 
cation, whether  true  or  false ;  in  which  sense  of  the  term  I  am 
unable  to  praise  anything.  For  I  in  my  simplicity  imagined 
that  the  topics  of  praise  should  be  true ;  this  was  to  be  the 
foundation,  and  that  out  of  them  the  speaker  was  to  choose  the 
best  and  arrange  them  in  the  best  order.  And  I  felt  quite 
proud,  and  thought  that  I  could  speak  as  well  as  another,  as  I 
knew  the  nature  of  true  praise.  Whereas  I  see  now  that  the 
intention  was  to  attribute  to  Love  every  species  of  greatness  and 
glory,  whether  really  belonging  to  him  or  not,  without  regard 

24  See  Apology,  note  7.  Socrates  here  makes  a  play  on  the  names  Gor- 
gias and  Gorgon.  The  Gorgon  was  a  legendary  monster  with  hair  of  hiss- 
ing snakes,  and  whose  aspect  was  so  terrible  it  turned  all  beholders  to  stone. 
The  Greeks  carved  the  Gorgon's  head  on  their  armor,  and  on  walls 
and  gates,  in  the  belief  that  it  would  terrify  and  paralyze  an  enemy. 


122  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

to  truth  or  falsehood — that  was   no   matter ;  for  the  original 

proposal  seems  to  have  been  not  that  you  should  praise,  but 

only  that  you  should  appear  to  praise  him.     And  you  attribute 

to  Love  every  imaginable  form  of  praise,  and  say  that  "  he  is  all 

this,"  "  the  cause  of  all  this  "  in  order  that  you  may  ex- 

199~    hibit  him  as  the  fairest  and  best  of  all ;  and  this  of  course 
202 

imposes  on  the  unwary,  but  not  on  those  who  know  him  : 

and  a  noble  and  solemn  hymn  of  praise  have  you  rehearsed. 
But  as  I  misunderstood  the  nature  of  the  praise  when  I  said  that 
I  would  take  my  turn,  I  must  beg  to  be  absolved  from  the  prom- 
ise which  (as  Euripides  would  say)  was  a  promise  of  the  lips 
and  not  of  the  mind.  Farewell  then  to  such  a  strain  :  for  that 
is  not  my  way  of  praising  ;  no,  indeed,  I  cannot  attain  to  that. 
But  if  you  like  to  hear  the  truth  about  love,  I  am  ready  to 
speak  in  my  own  manner,  though  I  will  not  make  myself  ridic- 
ulous by  entering  into  any  rivalry  with  you.  Say  then,  Phae- 
drus,  whether  you  would  like  to  have  the  truth  about  love, 
spoken  in  any  words  and  in  any  order  which  may  happen  to 
come  into  my  mind  at  the  time.  Will  that  be  agreeable  to  you? 
Aristodemus  said  that  Paehdrus  and  the  company  bid  him 
take  his  own  course. 

[After  his  usual  manner,  Socrates  avoided  a  long  set  speech 
in  the  outset.  He  pretended  that  he  had  once  met  a  very 
wise  woman  by  the  name  of  Diotima25  who  had  taught  him 
the  nature  of  love.  She  led  Socrates  to  the  view  that  love 
is  not  as  the  former  speakers  had  declared,  beautiful  or  good 
or  wise  or  divine.  Love  is  child  of  the  god  Plenty  and  of  Pov- 
erty.    Love  is  a  mediator  between  the  divine  and  human.] 

"  Love  is  a  great  spirit,  and  like  all  that  is  spiritual  he  is 
intermediate  between  the  divine  and  the  mortal."  "And 
what  w  the  nature  of  this  spiritual  power?  "  I  said.  "  This 
is  the  power,"  she  said,  "  which  interprets  and  conveys  to 
the  gods  the  prayers  and  sacrifices  of  men,  and  to  men 
the  commands  and  rewards  of  the  gods  ;  and  this  power 
spans  the  chasm  which  divides  them,  and  in  this  all  is  bound 
together,   and  through  this  the  arts  of  the  prophet  and  the 

25  Diotima  (di'o-ti'ma):  spoken  of  below  (211)  as  the  stranger  of  Mantineia 
(man'ti-ni'a). 


THE  SYMPOSIUM  123 

priest,  their  sacrifices  and  mysteries  and  charms,  and  all  proph- 
ecy and  incantation,  find  their  way.  For  God  mingles  not 
with  man  ;  and  through  this  power  all  the  intercourse  and 
speech  of  God  with  man,  whether  awake  or  asleep,  is  carried 
on.  The  wisdom  which  understands  this  is  spiritual  \  all 
other  wisdom,  such  as  that  of  arts  or  handicrafts,  is  mean  and 
vulgar." 

[Love  is  not  wise  or  good  or  beautiful,  but  is  in  passionate 
search  for  wisdom,  goodness  and  beauty.] 

"  The  truth  of  the  matter  is  just  this:  No  god  is  a  philos- 
opher or  seeker  after  wisdom,  for  he  is  wise  already  ;  nor  does 
any  one  else  who  is  wise  seek  after  wisdom.  Neither 
do  the  ignorant  seek  after  wisdom.  For  herein  is  the  2°4" 
evil  of  ignorance,  that  he  who  is  neither  good  nor  wise 
is  nevertheless  satisfied  :  he  feels  no  want,  and  has  therefore  no 
desire."  "But  who  then,  Diotima,"  I  said,  "are  the 
lovers  of  wisdom,  if  they  are  neither  the  wise  nor  the  fool- 
ish? "  "A  child  may  answer  that  question,"  she  replied  ; 
"they  are  those  who,  like  Love,  are  in  a  mean  between  the 
two.  For  wisdom  is  a  most  beautiful  thing,  and  love  is  of 
the  beautiful ;  and  therefore  Love  is  also  a  philosopher  or 
lover  of  wisdom,  and  being  a  lover  of  wisdom  is  in  a  mean 
between  the  wise  and  the  ignorant.  And  this  again  is  a 
quality  which  Love  inherits  from  his  parents  ;  for  his  father 
is  wealthy  and  wise,  and  his  mother  poor  and  foolish.  Such, 
my  dear  Socrates,  is  the  nature  of  the  spirit  Love.  The  error 
in  your  conception  of  him  was  very  natural,  and  as  I  imagine 
from  what  you  say,  has  arisen  out  of  a  confusion  of  love  and 
the  beloved — this  made  you  think  that  love  was  all  beau- 
tiful. For  the  beloved  is  the  truly  beautiful,  delicate,  and 
perfect  and  blessed;  but  the  principle  of  love  is  of  another 
nature,  and  is  such  as  I  have  described." 

[But  love  is  not  love  of  the  beautiful  and  good  only.  Love 
is  essentially  love  of  "birth  in  beauty."  "To  the  mortal 
creature,  generation  is  a  sort  of  eternity  and  immortality," 
and  all  true  love  is  essentially  love  of  immortality.  Some  be- 
get earthly  children,  but  some  are  more  creative  in  their  souls 
than  in  their  bodies.      ' '  Such  creators  are  poets  and  all  artists 


124  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

who  are  deserving  the  name  inventor.  But  the  greatest  and 
fairest  sort  of  wisdom  by  far  is  that  which  is  concerned  with 
the  ordering  of  states  and  families,  and  which  is  called  tem- 
perance and  justice."  He  who  in  youth  has  the  seed  of  these 
implanted  in  him  desires  to  implant  them  in  others.  "  When 
he  finds  a  fair  and  noble  and  well-nurtured  soul  . 
he  is  full  of  fair  speech  about  virtue  and  the  nature  and  pur- 
suits of  a  good  man  ;  and  he  tries  to  educate  him  ; 
and  they  are  bound  together  by  a  far  nearer  tie  and  have  a 
closer  friendship  than  those  who  beget  mortal  children,  for  the 
children  who  are  their  common  offspring  are  fairer  and  more 
immortal."] 

"These  are  the  lesser  mysteries  of  love,  into  which  even 
you,  Socrates,  may  enter ;  to  the  greater  and  more  hidden 
ones  which  are  the  crown  of  these,  and  to  which,  if  you 
pursue  them  in  aright  spirit,  they  will  lead,  I  know  not 
whether  you  will  be  able  to  attain.  But  I  will  do  my  utmost 
to  inform  you,  and  do  you  follow  if  you  can.  For  he  who 
would  proceed  rightly  in  this  matter  should  begin  in  youth  to 
turn  to  beautiful  forms  ;  and  first,  if  his  instructor  guide  him 
rightly  **he  should  learn  to  love  one  such  form  only — out  of 
that  he  should  create  fair  thoughts  j  and  soon  he  will  himself 
perceive  that  the  beauty  of  one  form  is  truly  related  to  the 
beauty  of  another ;  and  then  if  beauty  in  general  is  his  pur- 
suit, how  foolish  would  he  be  not  to  recognize  that  the  beauty 
in  every  form  is  one  and  the  same  !  And  when  he  perceives 
this  he  will  abate  his  violent  love  of  the  one,  which  he  will 
despise  and  deem  a  small  thing,  and  will  become  a  lover  of 
.  all  beautiful  forms ;  this  will  lead  him  on  to  consider  that  the 
?  beauty  of  the  mind  is  more  honorable  than  the  beauty  of  the 
outward  form.  So  that  if  a  virtuous  soul  have  but  a  little 
comeliness,  he  will  be  content  to  love  and  tend  him,  and  will 
search  out  and  bring  to  the  birth  thoughts  which  may  improve 
the  young,  until  his  beloved  is  compelled  to  contemplate  and 
see  the  beauty  of  institutions  and  laws,  and  understand  that 
all  is  of  one  kindred,  and  that  personal  beauty  is  only  a  trifle; 
and  after  laws  and  institutions  he  will  lead  him  on  to  the 
sciences,  that  he  may  see  their  beauty,  being  not  like  a  ser- 
vant in  love  with  the  beauty  of  one  youth  or  man  or  institu- 
tion, himself  a  slave  mean  and  calculating,  but  looking  at  the 


THE  SYMPOSIUM  1 25 

abundance  of  beauty  and  drawing  towards  the  sea  of  beauty, 
and  creating  and  beholding  many  fair  and  noble  thoughts  and 
notions  in  boundless  love  of  wisdom  ;  until  at  length  he  grows 
and  waxes  strong,  and  at  last  the  vision  is  revealed  to  him  of 
a  single  science,  which  is  the  science  of  beauty  everywhere. 
To  this  I  will  proceed ;  please  to  give  me  your  very  best  at- 
tention. 

"  For  he  who  has  been  instructed  thus  far  in  the  things  of 
love,  and  who  has  learned  to  see  the  beautiful  in  due  order 
and  succession,  when  he  comes  toward  the  end  will  suddenly 
perceive  a  nature  of  wondrous  beauty — and  this,  Socrates,  is 

that  final  cause  of  all  our  former  toils,  which  in  the 

211 
first  place  is  everlasting — not  growing  and  decaying,  or 

waxing  and  waning ;  in  the  next  place  not  fair  in  one  point 
of  view  and  foul  in  another,  or  at  one  time  or  in  one  relation 
or  at  one  place  fair,  at  another  time  or  in  another  relation  or 
at  another  place  foul,  as  if  fair  to  some  and  foul  to  others,  or 
in  the  likeness  of  a  face  or  hands  or  any  other  part  of  the 
bodily  frame,  or  in  any  form  of  speech  or  knowledge,  nor  ex- 
isting in  any  other  being;  as  for  example,  an  animal,  whether 
in  earth  or  heaven,  but  beauty  only,  absolute,  separate,  sim- 
ple, and  everlasting,  which  without  diminution  and  without 
increase,  or  any  change,  is  imparted  to  the  ever-growing  and 
perishing  beauties  of  all  other  things.  He  who  under  the  in- 
fluence of  true  love  rising  upward  from  these  begins  to  see  that 
beauty,  is  not  far  from  the  end.  And  the  true  order  of  going 
or  being  led  by  another  to  the  things  of  love,  is  to  use  the 
beauties  of  earth  as  steps  along  which  he  mounts  upwards  for 
the  sake  of  that  other  beauty,  going  from  one  to  two,  and  from 
two  to  all  fair  forms,  and  from  fair  forms  to  fair  actions,  and 
from  fair  actions  to  fair  notions,  until  from  fair  notions  he  ar- 
rives at  the  notion  of  absolute  beauty,  and  at  last  knows  what 
the  essence  of  beauty  is.  This,  my  dear  Socrates,"  said  the 
stranger  of  Mantineia,  "is  that  life  above  all  others  which 
man  should  live,  in  the  contemplation  of  beauty  absolute ;  a 
beauty  which  if  you  once  beheld,  you  would  see  not  to  be 
after  the  measure  of  gold,  and  garments,  and  fair  boys  and 
youths,  which  when  you  now  behold  you  are  in  fond  amaze- 
ment, and  you  and  many  a  one  are  content  to  live  seeing  only 
and  conversing  with  them  without  meat  or  drink,  if  that  were 
possible — you  only  want  to  be  with  them  and  to  look  at  them. 


126  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

But  what  if  man  had  eyes  to  see  the  true  beauty — the  divine 
beauty,  I  mean,  pure  and  clear  and  unalloyed,  not  clogged 
with  the  pollutions  of  mortality,  and  all  the  colors  and  vani- 
ties of  human  life — thither  looking,  and  holding  con- 
1  verse  with  the  true  beauty  divine  and  simple,  and  bring- 
ing into  being  and  educating  true  creations  of  virtue  and 
not  idols  only?  Do  you  not  see  that  in  that  communion 
only,  beholding  beauty  with  the  eye  of  the  mind,  he  will  be 
enabled  to  bring  forth,  not  images  of  beauty,  but  realities  j  for 
he  has  hold  not  of  an  image  but  of  a  reality,  and  bringing 
forth  and  educating  true  virtue  to  become  the  friend  of  God 
and  be  immortal,  if  mortal  man  may.  Would  that  be  an  ig- 
noble life?" 

Such,  Phaedrus — and  I  speak  not  only  to  you,  but  to  all  men 
— were  the  words  of  Diotima  ;  and  I  am  persuaded  of  their 
truth.  And  being  persuaded  of  them,  I  try  to  persuade  others, 
that  in  the  attainment  of  this  end  human  nature  will  not  eas- 
ily find  a  better  helper  than  Love.  And  therefore,  also,  I  say 
that  every  man  ought  to  honor  him  as  I  myself  honor  him, 
and  walk  in  his  ways,  and  exhort  others  to  do  the  same, 
even  as  I  praise  the  power  and  spirit  of  love  according  to  the 
measure  of  my  ability  now  and  ever. 

The  words  which  I  have  spoken,  you,  Phaedrus,  may  call  an 
encomium  of  love,  or  anything  else  which  you  please. 

When  Socrates  had  done  speaking,  the  company  applauded, 
and  Aristophanes  was  beginning  to  say  something  in  answer  to 
the  allusion  which  Socrates  had  made  to  his  own  speech,  when 
suddenly  there  was  a  great  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  house, 
as  of  revelers,  and  the  sound  of  a  flute-girl  was  heard.  Aga- 
thon  told  the  attendants  to  go  and  see  who  were  the  intruders. 
"  If  they  are  friends  of  ours,"  he  said,  "  invite  them  in,  but 
if  not  say  that  the  drinking  is  over."  A  little  while  after- 
wards they  heard  the  voice  of  Alcibiades  resounding  in  the 
court;  he  was  in  a  great  state  of  intoxication,  and  kept  roar- 
ing and  shouting  ' '  Where  is  Agathon  ?  Lead  me  to  Agathon, ' ' 
and  at  length,  supported  by  the  flute-girl  and  some  of  his 
companions,  he  found  his  way  to  them.  "  Hail,  friends!  " 
he  said,  appearing  at  the  door  crowned  with  a  massive  garland 
of  ivy  and  wall-flowers,  and  having  his  head  flowing  with  rib- 
bons. "Will  you  have  a  very  drunken  man  as  a  companion 
of  your  revels  ?     Or  shall  I  crown  Agathon,  as  was  my  inten- 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  127 

tion  in  coming,  and  go  my  way  ?  For  I  was  unable  to  come 
yesterday,  and  therefore  I  come  to-day,  carrying  on  my  head 
these  ribbons,  that  taking  them  from  my  own  head,  I  may 
crown  the  head  of  this  fairest  and  wisest  of  men,  as  I  may  be 
allowed  to  call  him.  Will  you  laugh  at  me  because  I  am 
drunk?  Yet  I  know  very  well  that  I  am  speaking  the  2I 
truth,  although  you  may  laugh.  But  first  tell  me  whether  I 
shall  come  in  on  the  understanding  that  I  am  drunk.  Will 
you  drink  with  me  or  not?  " 

The  company  were  vociferous  in  begging  that  he  would 
take  his  place  among  them,  and  Agathon  specially  invited 
him.  Thereupon  he  was  led  in  by  the  people  who  were  with 
him  ;  and  as  he  was  being  led  he  took  the  crown  and  ribbons 
from  his  head,  intending  to  crown  Agathon,  and  had  them 
before  his  eyes  ;  this  prevented  him  from  seeing  Socrates,  who 
made  way  for  him,  and  Alcibiades  took  the  vacant  place  be- 
tween Agathon  and  Socrates,  and  in  taking  the  place  he  em- 
braced Agathon  and  crowned  him.  Take  off  his  sandals,  said 
Agathon,  and  let  him  make  a  third  on  the  same  couch. 

By  all  means ;  but  who  makes  the  third  partner  in  our  rev- 
els ?  said  Alcibiades,  turning  round  and  i  Parting  up  as  he  caught 
sight  of  Socrates.  By  Heracles,  he  said,  what  is  this?  here  is 
Socrates  always  lying  in  wait  for  me,  and  always,  as  his  way  is, 
coming  out  at  all  sorts  of  unsuspected  places  :  and  now,  what 
have  you  to  say  for  yourself,  and  why  are  you  lying  here, 
where  I  perceive  that  you  have  contrived  to  find  a  place,  not 
by  a  professor  or  lover  of  jokes,  like  Aristophanes,  but  by  the 
fairest  of  the  company  ? 

Socrates  turned  to  Agathon  and  said  :  I  must  ask  you  to 
protect  me,  Agathon ;  for  this  passion  of  his  has  grown  quite 
a  serious  matter.  Since  I  became  his  admirer  I  have  never 
been  allowed  to  speak  to  any  other  fair  one,  or  so  much  as  to 
look  at  them.  If  I  do  he  goes  wild  with  envy  and  jealousy, 
and  not  only  abuses  me  but  can  hardly  keep  his  hands  off  me, 
and  at  this  moment  he  may  do  me  some  harm.  Please  to  see 
to  this,  and  either  reconcile  me  to  him,  or,  if  he  attempts 
violence,  protect  me,  as  I  am  in  bodily  fear  of  his  mad  and 
passionate  attempts. 

There  can  never  be  reconciliation  between  you  and  me,  said 
Alcibiades ;  but  for  the  present  I  will  defer  your  chastisement. 
And  I  must  beg  you,  Agathon,  to  give  me  back  some  of  the 


128  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

ribbons  that  I  may  crown  the  marvelous  head  of  this  universal 
despot, — I  would  not  have  him  complain  of  me  for  crowning 
you,  and  neglecting  him,  who  in  conversation  is  the  conquer- 
or of  all  mankind  j  and  this  not  once  only,  as  you  were  the 
day  before  yesterday,  but  always.  Then  taking  some  of  the 
ribbons,  he  crowned  Socrates,  and  again  reclined.  When  he 
had  lain  down  again,  he  said :  You  seem,  my  friends,  to  be 
sober,  which  is  a  thing  not  to  be  endured  ;  you  must  drink, — 
for  that  was  the  agreement  which  I  made  with  you, — and  I 
elect  myself  master  of  the  feast  until  you  are  well  drunk. 
Let  us  have  a  large  goblet,  Agathon,  or  rather,  he  said,  ad- 
dressing the  attendant,  bring  me  that  wine-cooler.  The  wine- 
cooler  was  a  vessel  holding  more  than  two  quarts  which 
l*  caught  his  eye, — this  he  filled  and  emptied,  and  bid  the 
attendant  fill  it  again  for  Socrates.  Observe,  my  friends,  said 
Alcibiades,  that  my  ingenious  device  will  have  no  effect  on 
Socrates,  for  he  can  drink  any  quantity  of  wine  and  not  be  at 
all  nearer  being  drunk.  Socrates  drank  the  cup  which  the 
attendant  filled  for  him. 

Eryximachus  said :  What  is  this,  Alcibiades?  Are  we  to 
have  neither  conversation  nor  singing  over  our  cups;  but 
simply  to  drink  as  if  we  were  thirsty  ? 

Alcibiades  replied  :  Hail,  worthy  son  of  a  most  wise  and 
worthy  sire  ! 

The  same  to  you,  said  Eryximachus  ;  but  what  shall  we  do  ? 

That  I  leave  to  you,  said  Alcibiades. 

"The  wise  physician  skilled  our  wounds  to  heal." 

shall  prescribe  and  we  will  obey.     What  do  you  want  ? 

Well,  Eryximachus  said  :  Before  you  appeared  a  resolution 
was  agreed  to  by  us  that  each  one  in  turn  should  speak  a  dis- 
course in  praise  of  love,  and  as  good  a  one  as  he  could  :  this 
was  passed  round  from  left  to  right ;  and  as  all  of  us  have 
spoken,  and  you  have  not  spoken  but  have  well  drunken,  you 
ought  to  speak,  and  then  impose  upon  Socrates  any  task  which 
you  please,  and  he  on  his  right  hand  neighbor,  and  so  on. 

That  is  good,  Eryximachus,  said  Alcibiades;  and  yet  the 
comparison  of  a  drunken  man's  speech  with  those  of  sober 
men  is  hardly  fair ;  and  I  should  like  to  know,  sweet  friend, 
whether  you  really  believe  what  Socrates  was  just  now  saying; 
for  I  can  assure  you  that  the  very  reverse  is  the  fact,  and  that 


THE   SYMPOSIUM  1 29 

if  I  praise  any  one  but  himself  in  his  presence,  whether  God 
or  man,  he  will  hardly  keep  his  hands  off  me. 

For  shame,  said  Socrates. 

By  Poseidon,26  said  Alcibiades,  there  is  no  use  in  your  deny- 
ing this,  for  no  creature  will  I  praise  in  your  presence. 

Well  then  take  your  own  course,  said  Eryximachus,  and  if 
you  like  praise  Socrates. 

What  do  you  think,  Eryximachus  ?  said  Alcibiades ;  shall  I 
attack  him  and  inflict  the  punishment  in  your  presence? 

What  are  you  about?  said  Socrates;  are  you  going  to  raise 
a  laugh  at  me?     Is  that  the  meaning  of  your  praise? 

I  am  going  to  speak  the  truth,  if  you  will  permit  me. 

I  not  only  permit  you  but  exhort  you  to  speak  the  truth. 

Then  I  will  begin  at  once,  said  Alcibiades,  and  if  I  say 
anything  that  is  not  true,  you  may  interrupt  me  if  you  will, 
and  say  that  I  speak  falsely,  though  my  intention  is  to  speak 
the  truth.  But  you  must  not  wonder  if  I  speak  anyhow  as 
things  come  into  my  mind  ;  for  the  fluent  and  orderly  enumer- 
ation of  all  your  wonderful  qualities  is  not  a  task  the  accom- 
plishment of  which  is  easy  to  a  man  in  my  condition. 

I  shall  praise  Socrates  in  a  figure  which  will  appear  to  him 
to  be  a  caricature,  and  yet  I  do  not  mean  to  laugh  at  him,  but 
only  to  speak  the  truth.  I  say  then,  that  he  is  exactly 
like  the  masks  of  Silenus,27  which  may  be  seen  sitting  in 
the  statuaries'  shops,  having  pipes  and  flutes  in  their  mouths; 
and  they  are  made  to  open  in  the  middle,  and  there  are  im- 
ages of  gods  inside  them.  I  say  also  that  he  is  like  Marsyas  ^ 
the  satyr.29  You  will  not  deny,  Socrates,  that  your  face  is  like 
that  of  a  satyr.30  Aye,  and  there  is  a  resemblance  in  other 
points  too.     For  example,  you  are  a  bully, — that  I  am  in  a 

2,1  See  Euthydemus,  note  21. 

2;  Silenus  (si-le'nus) :  the  childhood  instructor  and  constant  companion 
of  Bacchus,  god  of  wine.  He  is  mentioned  with  others  as  the  inventor  of 
the  flute,  which  he  often  plays.  He  was  a  jovial  fat  old  man,  fond  of 
wine  and  music,  and  generally  intoxicated;  but  he  was  also  regarded  as 
an  inspired  prophet,  and  a  sage  who  despised  the  gifts  of  fortune.  "  Fig- 
ures of  Silenus  were  used  as  caskets  for  precious  pieces  of  sculpture." 
(L.andS.) 

28  See  Euthydemus,  note  17. 

29  The  satyrs  were  a  class  of  minor  divinities— the  companions  of  Bacchus 
—dwelling  in  the  forest,  and  fond  of  sleep,  wine,  and  music.  They  are 
represented  with  bristling  hair,  blunt,  up-turned  nose,  pointed  ears,  small 
horns,  and  dressed  in  the  skins  of  animals. 

30  Though  of  robust  constitution,  Socrates  is  said  to  have  had  a  remark- 
ably ugly  face,  with  flat  nose,  thick  lips,  and  prominent  eyes. 


130  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

position  to  prove  by  the  evidence  of  witnesses,  if  you  will  not 
confess.  And  are  you  not  a  flute-player  ?  That  you  are,  and 
a  far  more  wonderful  performer  than  Marsyas.  For  he  indeed 
with  instruments  charmed  the  souls  of  men  by  the  power  of 
his  breath,  as  the  performers  of  his  music  do  still :  for  the 
melodies  of  Olympus 3l  are  derived  from  the  teaching  of  Mar- 
syas, and  these,  whether  they  are  played  by  a  great  master  or 
by  a  miserable  flute-girl,  have  a  power  which  no  others  have ; 
they  alone  possess  the  soul  and  reveal  the  wants  of  those  who 
have  need  of  gods  and  mysteries,32  because  they  are  inspired. 
But  you  produce  the  same  effect  with  the  voice  only,  and  do 
not  require  the  flute :  that  is  the  difference  between  you  and 
him.  When  we  hear  any  other  speaker,  even  a  very  good  one, 
his  words  produce  absolutely  no  effect  upon  us  in  comparison, 
whereas  the  very  fragments  of  you  and  your  words,  even  at 
second-hand,  and  however  imperfectly  repeated,  amaze  and 
possess  the  souls  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child  who  comes 
within  hearing  of  them.  And  if  I  were  not  afraid  that  you 
would  think  me  drunk,  I  would  have  sworn  as  well  as  spoken 
to  the  influence  which  they  have  always  had  and  still  have 
over  me.  For  my  heart  leaps  within  me  more  than  that  of 
any  Corybantian  reveler,33  and  my  eyes  rain  tears  when  I  hear 
them.  And  I  observe  that  many  others  are  affected  in  the 
same  way.  I  have  heard  Pericles34  and  other  great  orators, 
but  though  I  thought  that  they  spoke  well,  I  never  had  any 
.  similar  feeling ;  my  soul  was  not  stirred  by  them,  nor  was 
I  angry  at  the  thought  of  my  own  slavish  state.  But  this 
Marsyas  has  often  brought  me  to  such  a  pass,  that  I  have  felt 
as  if  I  could  hardly  endure  the  life  which  I  am  leading  (this, 

31  Olympus  (5-lym'pus):  a  mythical  poet  and  musician,  a  pupil  of  Marsyas, 
whose  art  of  flute-playing  he  perfected. 

32  Secret  religious  ceremonies  of  ancient  origin  employed  in  the  worship 
of  certain  gods  and  goddesses.  Only  those  who  had  been  initiated  could 
take  part  in  these  rites,  which  consisted  of  purifications,  sacrifices,  proces- 
sions, songs,  dances,  and  dramatic  spectacles.  On  account  of  the  secrecy 
maintained,  there  is  much  doubt  concerning  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the 
mystic  rites.  The  dramatic  spectacles  were  probably  scenic  representations 
of  mythical  legends  about  the  god  worshipped.  Passages  in  the  Greek 
poets  seem  to  indicate  that  the  mysteries  were  intended  to  encourage  belief 
in  a  future  life,  and  in  reward  or  punishment  there,  as  merited  by  the  life 
on  earth.  Certain  of  the  rites  were  supposed  to  be  a  means  of  purification 
from  sin,  and  reconciliation  with  the  gods. 

33  Those  who  took  part  in  the  wild  and  furious  rites  in  honor  of  the  god- 
dess Cybele.     See  Euthyderrms,  note  13. 

34  See  Protagoras,  note  37. 


THE  SYMPOSIUM  131 

Socrates,  you  admit) ;  and  I  am  conscious  that  if  I  did  not 
shut  my  ears  against  him,  and  fly  from  the  voice  of  the  siren,35 
he  would  detain  me  until  I  grew  old  sitting  at  his  feet.  For 
he  makes  me  confess  that  I  ought  not  to  live  as  I  do,  neglecting 
the  wants  of  my  own  soul,  and  busying  myself  with  the  con- 
cerns of  the  Athenians  ;  therefore  I  hold  my  ears  and  tear 
myself  away  from  him.  And  he  is  the  only  person  who  ever 
made  me  ashamed,  which  you  might  think  not  to  be  in  my 
nature,  and  there  is  no  one  else  who  does  the  same.  For  I 
know  that  I  cannot  answer  him  or  say  that  I  ought  not  to  do 
as  he  bids,  but  when  I  leave  his  presence  the  love  of  popularity 
gets  the  better  of  me.  And  therefore  I  run  away  and  fly  from 
him,  and  when  I  see  him  I  am  ashamed  of  what  I  have  con- 
fessed to  him.  And  many  a  time  I  wish  that  he  were  dead, 
and  yet  I  know  that  I  should  be  much  more  sorry  than  glad, 
if  he  were  to  die :  so  that  I  am  at  my  wit's  end. 

And  this  is  what  I  and  many  others  have  suffered  from  the 
flute-playing  of  this  satyr.  Yet  hear  me  once  more  while  I 
show  you  how  exact  the  image  is,  and  how  marvelous  his 
power.  For  I  am  sure  that  none  of  you  know  him ;  but  I 
know  him  and  will  describe  him,  as  I  have  begun.  See  you 
how  fond  he  is  of  the  fair  ?  He  is  always  with  them  and  is 
always  being  smitten  by  them,  and  then  again  he  knows  noth- 
ing and  is  ignorant  of  all  things — that  is  the  appearance  which 
he  puts  on.  Is  he  not  like  a  Silenus  in  this  ?  Yes,  surely  : 
that  is,  his  outer  mask,  which  is  the  carved  head  of  the  Silenus  ; 
but  when  he  is  opened,  what  temperance  there  is,  as  I  may  say 
to  you,  O  my  companions  in  drink,  residing  within.  Know 
you  that  beauty  and  wealth  and  honor,  at  which  the  many 
wonder,  are  of  no  account  with  him,  and  are  utterly  despised 
by  him  :  he  regards  not  at  all  the  persons  who  are  gifted  with 
them  j  mankind  are  nothing  to  him ;  all  his  life  is  spent  in 
mocking  and  flouting  at  them.  But  when  I  opened  him, 
and  looked  within  at  his  serious  purpose,  I  saw  in  him  2'7" 
divine  and  golden  images  of  such  fascinating  beauty  that 
I  was  ready  to  do  in  a  moment  whatever  Socrates  commanded 
(they  may  have  escaped  the  observation  of  others,  but  I  saw 
them). 

36  The  sirens  were  maidens  living  on  an  island  in  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
By  their  sweet  singing  they  charmed  all  who  sailed  by,  and  allured  them  to 
destruction.  Whoever  heard  them,  and  drew  near,  never  saw  wife  or  home 
again. 


132  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

[Alcibiades  next  gives  a  long  account  of  how  he  tried  to 
entice  Socrates  into  vice,  but  without  success.] 

All  this,  as  I  should  explain,  happened  before  he  and  I  went 
on  the  expedition  to  Potidaea ;  there  we  messed  together,  and 
I  had  the  opportunity  of  observing  his  extraordinary  power  of 
sustaining  fatigue  and  going  without  food  when  our  sup- 
220  plies  were  intercepted  at  any  place,  as  will  happen  with 
an  army.  In  the  faculty  of  endurance  he  was  superior  not 
only  to  me  but  to  everybody ;  there  was  no  one  to  be  com- 
pared to  him.  Yet  at  a  festival  he  was  the  only  person  who 
had  any  real  powers  of  enjoyment,  and  though  not  willing  to 
drink,  he  could  if  compelled  beat  us  all  at  that,  and  the  most 
wonderful  thing  of  all  was  that  no  human  being  had  ever  seen 
Socrates  drunk  ;  and  that,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  will  soon  be 
tested.  His  endurance  of  cold  was  also  surprising.  There  was 
a  severe  frost,  for  the  winter  in  that  region  was  really  tremen- 
dous, and  everybody  else  either  remained  indoors,  or  if  they 
went  out  had  on  no  end  of  clothing,  and  were  well  shod,  and  had 
their  feet  swathed  in  felts  and  fleeces :  in  the  midst  of  this, 
Socrates,  with  his  bare  feet  on  the  ice,  and  in  his  ordinary 
dress,  marched  better  than  any  of  the  other  soldiers  who  had 
their  shoes  on,  and  they  looked  daggers  at  him  because  he 
seemed  to  despise  them. 

I  have  told  you  one  tale,  and  now  I  must  tell  you  another, 
which  is  worth  hearing,  of  the  doings  and  sufferings  of  this  en- 
during man  while  he  was  on  the  expedition.  One  morning 
he  was  thinking  about  something  which  he  could  not  resolve ; 
and  he  would  not  give  up,  but  continued  thinking  from  early 
dawn  until  noon — there  he  stood  fixed  in  thought ;  and  at  noon 
attention  was  drawn  to  him,  and  the  rumor  ran  through  the 
wondering  crowd  that  Socrates  had  been  standing  and  think- 
ing about  something  ever  since  the  break  of  day.  At  last,  in 
the  evening  after  supper,  some  Ionians36  out  of  curiosity  (I 
should  explain  that  this  was  not  in  winter  but  in  summer), 
brought  out  their  mats  and  slept  in  the  open  air  that  they 
might  watch  him  and  see  whether  he  would  stand  all  night. 
There  he  stood  all  night  as  well  as  all  day  and  the  following 
morning ;  and  with  the  return  of  light  he  offered  up  a  prayer 

38  Ionians:  Greeks  from  Ionia  (i-o'ni'-a),  a  region  on  the  west  coast  of  Asia 
Minor. 


THE  SYMPOSIUM  1 33 

to  the  sun,  and  went  his  way.  I  will  also  tell,  if  you  please — 
and  indeed  I  am  bound  to  tell — of  his  courage  in  battle ;  for 
who  but  he  saved  my  life  ?  Now  this  was  the  engagement  in 
which  I  received  the  prize  of  valor  :  for  I  was  wounded  and 
he  would  not  leave  me,  but  he  rescued  me  and  my  arms  j  and 
he  ought  to  have  received  the  prize  of  valor  which  the  generals 
wanted  to  confer  on  me  partly  on  account  of  my  rank,  and  I 
told  them  so  (this  Socrates  will  not  impeach  or  deny),  but  he 
was  more  eager  than  the  generals  that  I  and  not  he  should  have 
the  prize.  There  was  another  occasion  on  which  he  was  very 
noticeable ;  this  was  in  the  flight  of  the  army  after  the 
battle  of  Delium,  and  I  had  a  better  opportunity  of  see- 
ing him  than  at  Potidaea37  as  I  was  myself  on  horseback,  and 
therefore  comparatively  out  of  danger.  He  and  Laches  were 
retreating  as  the  troops  were  in  flight,  and  I  met  them  and  told 
them  not  to  be  discouraged,  and  promised  to  remain  with 
them;  and  there  you  might  see  him,  Aristophanes,  as  you 
describe,  just  as  he  is  in  the  streets  of  Athens,  stalking  like  a 
pelican,  and  rolling  his  eyes,  calmly  contemplating  enemies  as 
well  as  friends,  and  making  very  intelligible  to  anybody,  even 
from  a  distance,  that  whoever  attacks  him  will  be  likely  to 
meet  with  a  stout  resistance ;  and  in  this  way  he  and  his  com- 
panions escaped — for  these  are  the  sort  of  persons  who  are 
never  touched  in  war ;  they  only  pursue  those  who  are  run- 
ning away  headlong.  I  particularly  observed  how  superior  he 
was  to  Laches38  in  presence  of  mind.  Many  are  the  wonders 
of  Socrates  which  I  might  narrate  in  his  praise ;  most  of  his 
ways  might  perhaps  be  paralleled  in  others,  but  the  most 
astonishing  thing  of  all  is  his  absolute  unlikeness  to  any  human 
being  that  is  or  ever  has  been.  You  may  imagine  Brasidas39 
and  others  to  have  been  like  Achilles40;  or  you  may  imagine 
Nestor41  and  Antenor42  to  have  been  like  Pericles;  and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  other  famous  men ;  but  of  this  strange 

87  See  Apology,  note  22. 

38  Laches  (la'kez):  an  Athenian  general.  A  dialogue  of  Plato  bears  his 
name. 

39  Brasidas  (br2s'f-das):  a  distinguished  Spartan  general  in  the  Peloponne- 
sian  War.     He  was  long  honored  by  annual  sacrifices  and  games. 

40  See  Apology,  note  21. 

41  Nestor  (nes'tor):  a  legendary  Greek  hero,  distinguished  for  wisdom, 
justice,  and  eloquence.  He  rendered  great  service  to  the  Greeks  during 
the  Trojan  War,  by  his  prudent  and  persuasive  counsels. 

«Antenor  (an-te'nor) :  a  Trojan  prince,  who  took  part  in  the  Trojan  War. 


134  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

being  you  will  never  be  able  to  find  any  likeness  however  re- 
mote, either  among  men  who  now  are  or  who  ever  have  been, 
except  that  which  I  have  already  suggested  of  Silenus  and  the 
satyrs  j  and  this  is  an  allegory  not  only  of  himself,  but  also  of 
his  words.     For,  although  I  forgot  to  mention  this  before,  his 

words  are  ridiculous  when  you  first  hear  them  ;  he  clothes 
???"  himself  in  language  that  is  as  the  skin  of  the  wanton 

satyr — for  his  talk  is  of  pack-asses  and  smiths  and  cobblers 
and  curriers,  and  he  is  always  repeating  the  same  things  in  the 
same  words,  so  that  an  ignorant  man  who  did  not  know  him 
might  feel  disposed  to  laugh  at  him ;  but  he  who  pierces  the 
mask  and  sees  what  is  within  will  find  that  they  are  the  only 
words  which  have  a  meaning  in  them,  and  also  the  most 
divine,  abounding  in  fair  examples  of  virtue,  and  of  the  largest 
discourse,  or  rather  extending  to  the  whole  duty  of  a  good  and 
honorable  man.     .     .     . 

Agathon  arose  in  order  that  he  might  take  his  place  on  the 
couch  by  Socrates,  when  suddenly  a  band  of  revelers  en- 
tered, and  spoiled  the  order  of  the  banquet.  Some  one 
who  was  going  out  having  left  the  door  open,  they  had  found 
their  way  in,  and  made  themselves  at  home ;  great  confusion 
ensued,  and  every  one  was  compelled  to  drink  large  quantities 
of  wine.  Aristodemus  said  that  Eryximachus,  Phsedrus,  and 
others  went  away — he  himself  fell  asleep,  and  as  the  nights 
were  long  took  a  good  rest :  he  was  awakened  towards  day- 
break by  a  crowing  of  cocks,  and  when  he  awoke,  the  others 
were  either  asleep,  or  had  gone  away ;  there  remained  awake 
only  Socrates,  Aristophanes,  and  Agathon,  who  were  drinking 
out  of  a  large  goblet  which  they  passed  round,  and  Socrates 
was  discoursing  to  them.  Aristodemus  did  not  hear  the  begin- 
ning of  the  discourse,  and  he  was  only  half  awake,  but  the 
chief  thing  which  he  remembered,  was  Socrates  insisting  to 
the  other  two  that  the  genius  of  comedy  was  the  same  as  that 
of  tragedy,  and  that  the  writer  of  tragedy  ought  to  be  a  writer 
of  comedy  also.  To  this  they  were  compelled  to  assent,  being 
sleepy,  and  not  quite  understanding  his  meaning.  And  first  of 
all  Aristophanes  dropped,  and  then,  when  the  day  was  already 
dawning,  Agathon.  Socrates,  when  he  had  put  them  to  sleep, 
rose  to  depart,  Aristodemus,  as  his  manner  was,  following  him. 
At  the  Lyceum  he  took  a  bath  and  passed  the  day  as  usual ; 
and  when  evening  came  he  retired  to  rest  at  his  own  home. 


PH£DRUS 


INTRODUCTION 

This  dialogue  apparently  has  two  subjects :  rhetoric  or  the 
art  of  discourse,  and  love.  The  two  subjects  are  introduced 
by  the  reading  of  a  rhetorical  discourse  by  Lysias  on  love. 
Socrates  follows  this  by  another  rhetorical  discourse  on  love. 
He  then  declares  himself  conscience-stricken  for  having  dis- 
coursed upon  the  most  sacred  subject  in  an  artificial  way. 
He  will  redeem  himself  by  setting  forth  the  true  nature  of 
love. 

Love  is,  he  says,  in  reality,  a  divine  mania  or  ecstasy  like 
that  which  moves  the  poet  and  prophet,  or  like  that  which 
purges  the  soul  of  sin.  The  love  ecstasy  may  be  of  a  baser 
sort  leading  the  soul  toward  earthly  pleasure  which  corrupts, 
or  of  a  purer  sort  leading  the  soul  into  communion  with 
God  and  to  the  winning  of  other  souls  to  the  divine  life. 

The  criticism  which  Socrates  makes  upon  his  own  first  dis- 
course and  that  of  Lysias  leads  to  a  further  discussion  of 
rhetoric.  The  professors  of  rhetoric,  Socrates  holds,  do  not 
at  all  understand  the  true  nature  of  the  art  of  discourse.  That 
art  requires  a  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  a  knowledge  of 
the  souls  to  be  spoken  to,  not  only  as  to  their  general  charac- 
ter, but  also  as  to  their  individual  peculiarities. 

Let  us  now  consider  more  closely  the  connection  between 
Plato's  two  subjects,  love  and  discourse.  Plato  believed  in 
the  reality  of  absolute  truth ;  that  absolute  truth  lies  ready 
to  be  born  in  every  soul;  that  the  truth  may  be  brought  to 

137 


138  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

birth  in  the  soul  by  pure  reflection  (dialectic);  and  that 
the  chief  end  of  man  is  in  this  way  to  find  the  truth  for  him- 
self and  then  induce  others  to  do  likewise.  Since  these 
things  are  so,  I  must  not  regard  the  truth  and  must  not  re- 
gard other  souls  with  indifferent  contemplation.  I  must  love 
the  truth  with  my  whole  soul,  heart,  strength  and  mind; 
otherwise  1  shall  never  by  any  process  find  it.  1  must  in  the 
truest  sense  love  my  neighbor  as  myself,  for  I  must  seek  to 
bring  about  in  my  neighbor  the  same  "  birth  of  beauty" 
which  has  come  to  myself. 

Now  if  I  am  in  this  sense  a  lover  of  truth  and  a  lover  of 
men,  what  sort  of  discourse  shall  I  employ  in  speaking  to 
men  ?  Shall  I  go  to  those  whom  I  passionately  long  to  see 
born  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  with  a  fine-feathered  ora- 
tion like  that  of  Lysias  ?  Shall  I  go  to  those  whom  I  see 
wandering  blind  and  helpless  for  lack  of  insight  into  the 
truth,  with  quibbling  disputations  which  show  only  that  I 
have  skill  to  prove  either  side  of  any  question  ?  Shall  I  go 
to  those  who  intend  to  teach  others  by  speaking  or  writing, 
with  sciences  of  how  to  do  these  things,  whose  elaborate  and 
arbitrary  learning  is  far  from  the  real  spirit  of  man  and  far 
from  the  spirit  of  truth  ? 

If  I  do  any  of  these  things  I  am  traitor  to  the  truth  and  to 
the  souls  of  men.  But  if  I  really  love  the  truth,  and  love 
to  see  men  born  into  the  truth,  I  will  come  to  them  with 
the  purest  light  I  have.  I  will  seek  to  know  not  only 
what  souls  need,  but  what  this  soul  needs.  I  will  not  stand 
at  a  distance.  1  will  not  trust  to  writing.  1  will  face  the 
man.  1  will  sit  beside  him.  As  Socrates  did  with  Phasdrus, 
I  will  first  hear  his  say.  I  will  let  him  praise  Lysias,  if  Lys- 
ias is  his  present  love.  I  will  myself  praise  Lysias  so  far  as 
1  truly  can.  I  will  join  in  his  enthusiasms  so  far  as  they  are 
good, — and  the  enthusiasms  of  youth  have  always  some- 
thing of  good.    But  when  we  are  together,  he  and  I,  in 


INTRODUCTION  1 39 

close  and  joyful  comradeship,  I  will  ask  him  to  walk  with 
me.  He  has  shown  me  the  flash  and  smoke  of  Lysias'  fire- 
works. Let  us  go  into  the  clear  where  we  can  see  the  stars. 
I  believe  that  Plato  says  in  this  dialogue  that  the  greatest 
thing  in  the  world  is  such  love  as  Socrates  had  for  truth  and 
for  Phaedrus,  and  that  the  highest  expression  of  this  love  is 
in  such  free  face-to-face  talk  as  they  had  together  that  day 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus. 


PHAEDRUS 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DIALOGUE. 
Socrates.  Ph^edrus.  ' 

Scene  : — Under  a  plane-tree,  by  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus.8 

Socrates.  My  dear  Phaedrus,  whence  come  you,  and 
whither  are  you  going  ?  jSf 

Phcedrus.  I  am  come  from  Lysias 3  the  son  of 
Cephalus,  and  I  am  going  to  take  a  walk  outside  the  wall,  for  I 
have  been  with  him  ever  since  the  early  dawn,  which  is  a  long 
while,  and  our  common  friend  Acumenus 4  advises  me  to  walk 
in  the  country ;  he  says  that  this  is  far  more  refreshing  than 
walking  in  the  courts. 

Soc.  There  he  is  right.  Lysias  then,  I  suppose,  was  in  the 
city? 

Phcedr.  Yes,  he  was  with  Epicrates,5  at  the  house  of  Mo- 
rychus,6  that  house  which  is  near  the  temple  of  Olympian 
Zeus.7 

Soc.  And  how  did  he  entertain  you  ?  Can  I  be  wrong  in 
supposing  that  Lysias  gave  you  a  feast  of  discourse  ? 

PhcBdr.  You  shall  hear,  if  you  have  leisure  to  stay  and 
listen. 

1  Phaedrus  (fe'drus) :  our  knowledge  of  Phaedrus  is  obtained  principally 
from  this  dialogue. 

2  Ilissus  (i-lis'sus) :  a  small  river  flowing  through  the  east  side  of  Athens. 

3  Lysias  (hvs'i-as):  an  Athenian  orator.  The  father,  Cephalus  (ceTa-lus), 
was  on  intimate  terms  with  Socrates,  and  his  house  was  the  scene  of  Plato's 
Republic.     See  Republic,  I.,  note  I. 

*  The  physician.     See  Protagoras,  note  18. 
D  Epicrates  (e-pik'ra-tez) :  a  politician. 
8  Morychus  (mo'rf-kus) :  a  tragic  poet. 

7  Zeus,  supreme  ruler  of  the  universe,  was  supposed  to  have  his  throne  on 
the  highest  peak  of  Mt.  Olympus,  in  Thessaly. 

141 


142  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Soc.  And  would  I  not  regard  the  conversation  of  you  and 
Lysias  as  "  a  thing  of  higher  import,"  as  I  may  say  in  the 
words  of  Pindar,8  ' l  than  any  business  ?  ' ' 

Phcedr.   Will  you  go  on  ? 

Soc.  And  will  you  go  on  with  the  narration  ? 

Phcedr.  My  tale,  Socrates,  is  one  of  your  sort,  for  the 
theme  which  occupied  us  was  love, — after  a  fashion  :  Lysias 
imagined  a  fair  youth  who  was  being  tempted,  but  not  by  a 
lover ;  and  this  was  the  point :  he  ingeniously  proved  that 
the  non-lover  should  be  accepted  rather  than  the  lover.9 

Soc.  O  that  is  noble  of  him.  And  I  wish  that  he  would 
say  a  poor  man  rather  than  a  rich,  and  an  old  man  rather  than 
a  young  one ;  he  should  meet  the  case  of  me,  and  all  of  us, 
and  then  his  words  would  indeed  be  charming,  and  of  public 
utility ;  and  I  am  so  eager  to  hear  them  that  if  you  walk  all 
the  way  to  Megara,  and  when  you  have  reached  the  wall  come 
back,  as  Herodicus 10  recommends,  without  going  in,  I  will 
not  leave  you. 

Phcedr.  What  do  you  mean,  Socrates?  How  can  you  im- 
agine that  I,  who  am  quite  unpracticed,  can  remember  or  do 

s  justice  to  an  elaborate  work,  which  the  greatest  rheto- 
rician of  the  day  spent  a  long  time  in  composing.  In- 
deed, I  cannot ;  I  would  give  a  great  deal  if  I  could. 

Soc.  I  believe  that  I  know  Phaedrus  about  as  well  as  I  know 
myself,  and  I  am  very  sure  that  he  heard  the  words  of  Lysias, 
not  once  only,  but  again  and  again  he  made  him  say  them, 
and  Lysias  was  very  willing  to  gratify  him  ;  at  last,  when 
nothing  else  would  satisfy  him,  he  got  hold  of  the  book,  and 
saw  what  he  wanted, — this  was  his  morning's  occupation, — 
and  then  when  he  was  tired  with  sitting,  he  went  out  to  take 
a  walk,  not  until,  as  I  believe,  he  had  simply  learned  by  heart 
the  entire  discourse,  which  may  not  have  been  very  long ;  and 
as  he  was  going  to  take  a  walk  outside  the  wall  in  order  that 
he  might  practice,  he  saw  a  certain  lover  of  discourse  who  had 

8  See  Euthydemus,  note  22. 

9  Owing  in  part  to  the  ignorance  and  seclusion  of  women,  close  com- 
panionships between  men  were  common  in  ancient  Greece.  Such  relation- 
ships were  in  some  cases  entered  into  voluntarily,  while  in  other  cases  the 
younger  of  the  two  was  placed  by  parents  or  guardian  in  charge  of  the 
elder.  The  feeling  between  the  two  was  sometimes  slight,  sometimes  so  in- 
tense as  to  be  almost  unintelligible  to  us.  The  influence  of  the  relation- 
ship was  sometimes  highly  beneficial  and  sometimes  grossly  corrupting. 

10  See  Protagoras,  note  30. 


PH/EDRUS  143 

the  same  complaint  as  himself:  he  saw  and  rejoiced  ;  now, 
thought  he,  "  I  shall  have  a  partner  in  my  revels."  And  he 
invited  him  to  come  with  him.  But  when  the  lover  of  dis- 
course asked  to  hear  the  tale,  he  gave  himself  airs  and  said, 
"  No,  I  can't,"  as  if  he  didn't  like ;  although,  if  the  hearer 
had  refused,  the  end  would  have  been  that  he  would  have 
made  him  listen  whether  he  would  or  no.  Therefore,  Phae- 
drus,  as  he  will  soon  speak  in  any  case,  beg  him  to  speak  at 
once. 

Phcedr.  As  you  don't  seem  very  likely  to  let  me  off  until  1 
speak  in  some  way,  the  best  thing  that  I  can  do  is  to  speak  as 
I  best  may. 

Soc.  That  is  a  very  true  observation  of  yours. 

Phcedr.  I  will  do  my  best,  for  believe  me,  Socrates,  I  did 
not  learn  the  very  words ;  O  no,  but  I  have  a  general  notion 
of  what  he  said,  and  will  repeat  concisely,  and  in  order,  the 
several  arguments  by  which  the  case  of  the  non -lover  was 
proved  to  be  superior  to  that  of  the  lover ;  let  me  begin  at  the 
beginning. 

Soc.  Yes,  my  friend ;  but  you  must  first  of  all  show  what 
you  have  got  in  your  left  hand  under  your  cloak,  for  that  roll, 
as  I  suspect,  is  the  actual  discourse.  Now,  much  as  I  love  you, 
I  would  not  have  you  suppose  that  I  am  going  to  have  your 
memory  exercised  upon  me,  if  you  have  Lysias  himself  here. 

Phcedr.  Enough  ;  I  see  that  I  have  no  hope  of  practicing 
upon  you.  But  if  I  am  to  read,  where  would  you  please 
to  sit  ? 

Soc.  Turn  this  way ;  let  us  go  to  the  Ilissus,  and  sit  down 
at  some  quiet  spot. 

Phcedr.  I  am  fortunate  in  not  having  my  sandals,  and  as 
you  never  have  any,  I  think  that  we  may  go  along  the  brook 
and  cool  our  feet  in  the  water :  this  is  the  easiest  way,  and  at 
midday  and  in  the  summer  is  far  from  being  unpleasant. 

Soc.  Lead  on,  and  look  out  for  a  place  in  which  we  can  sit 
down. 

Phcedr.   Do  you  see  that  tallest  plane  -  tree  in  the  distance  ? 

Soc.  Yes. 

Phcedr.  There  are  shade  and  gentle  breezes,  and  grass  on 
which  we  may  either  sit  or  lie  down. 

Soc.   Move  on. 

Phcedr.  I  should  like  to  know,  Socrates,  whether  the  place 


144  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

is  not  somewhere  here  at  which  Boreas  n  is  said  to  have  car- 
ried off  Orithyia  from  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus. 

Soc.  That  is  the  tradition. 

Phozdr.  And  is  this  the  exact  spot?  The  little  stream  is 
delightfully  clear  and  bright;  I  can  fancy  that  there  might  be 
maidens  playing  near. 

Soc.  I  believe  that  the  spot  is  not  exactly  here,  but  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  lower  down,  where  you  cross  to  the  tem- 
ple of  Artemis,12  and  I  think  that  there  is  some  sort  of  altar  of 
Boreas  at  the  place. 

Phcedr.  I  don't  recollect;  but  I  wish  that  you  would  tell 
me  whether  you  believe  this  tale. 

Soc.  The  wise  are  doubtful,  and  if,  like  them,  I  also 
doubted,  there  would  be  nothing  very  strange  in  that.  I 
might  have  a  rational  explanation  that  Orithyia  was  playing 
with  Pharmacia,13  when  a  northern  gust  carried  her  over  the 
neighboring  rocks :  and  this  being  the  manner  of  her  death, 
she  was  said  to  have  been  carried  away  by  Boreas.  There  is 
a  discrepancy,  however,  about  the  locality,  as  according  to 
another  version  of  the  story  she  was  taken  from  the  Areopa- 
gus,14 and  not  from  this  place.  Now  I  quite  acknowledge 
that  these  explanations  are  very  nice,  but  he  is  not  to  be  en- 
vied who  has  to  give  them;  much  labor  and  ingenuity  will  be 
required  of  him  ;  and  when  he  has  once  begun,  he  must  go  on 
and  rehabilitate  centaurs  15  and  chimeras  16  dire.  Gorgons  17 
and  winged  steeds  flow  in  apace,  and  numberless  other  incon- 
ceivable and  impossible  monstrosities  and  marvels  of  nature. 
And  if  he  is  skeptical  about  them,  and  would  fain  reduce  them 
all  to  the  rules  of  probability,  this  sort  of  crude  philosophy 
will  take  up  all  his  time.     Now  I  have  certainly  not  time  for 

11  Boreas  (bo're-as) :  mythological  personification  of  the  north  wind,  who 
lived  in  Thrace.  He  loved  Orithyia  (or'f-thy'ya),  daughter  of  the  king  of 
Athens,  and  carried  her  away  from  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus  where  she  was 
playing  games. 

12  Artemis  (ar'te-rms)  :  one  of  the  major  Greek  divinities,  goddess  of  the 
moon,  and  of  the  chase,  corresponding  to  the  Roman  Diana. 

13  Pharmacia  (far-ma'si-a) :  the  nymph  of  a  spring  near  the  Ilissus,  and 
playmate  of  Orithyia. 

14  Areopagus  (ar'e-6p'a-gus)  or  Mars  Hill  :  a  hill  in  Athens.  See  Acts 
xvii.  22. 

15  Centaur  (sen'taur) :  a  fabulous  creature,  half  man  and  half  horse. 
'"Chimera  (kf-me'ra) :    a  fire-breathing  monster  with  the  head  of  a  lion, 

the  body  of  a  goat,  and  the  tail  of  a  serpent. 
17  See  Symposium,  note  24. 


PH/EDRUS  145 

this  ;  shall  I  tell  you  why  ?  I  must  first  know  myself,  as  the 
Delphian  inscription  18  says  ;  and  I  should  be  absurd  indeed, 
if  while  I  am  still  in  ignorance  of  myself  I  were  to  be 
curious  about  that  which  is  not  my  business.  And  there-  23° 
fore  I  say  farewell  to  all  this ;  the  common  opinion  is  enough 
for  me.  For,  as  I  was  saying,  I  want  to  know  not  about  this, 
but  about  myself.  Am  I  indeed  a  wonder  more  complicated 
and  swollen  with  passion  than  the  serpent  Typho,19  or  a  creat- 
ure of  a  gentler  and  simpler  sort,  to  whom  Nature  has  given 
a  diviner  and  lowlier  destiny  ?  But  here  let  me  ask  you, 
friend  :  Is  not  this  the  plane-tree  to  which  you  were  conduct- 
ing us? 

Phcedr.  Yes,  this  is  the  tree. 

Soc.  Yes,  indeed,  and  a  fair  and  shady  resting-place,  full  of 
summer  sounds  and  scents.  There  is  the  lofty  and  spreading 
plane-tree,  and  the  agnus  castus  *  high  and  clustering,  in  the 
fullest  blossom  and  the  greatest  fragrance ;  and  the  stream 
which  flows  beneath  the  plane-tree  is  deliciously  cold  to  the 
feet.  Judging  from  the  ornaments  and  images,  this  must  be  a 
spot  sacred  to  Achelous 21  and  the  Nymphs  a ;  moreover,  there 
is  a  sweet  breeze,  and  the  grasshoppers  chirrup ;  and  the  great- 
est charm  of  all  is  the  grass  like  a  pillow  gently  sloping  to  the 
head.     My  dear  Phsedrus,  you  have  been  an  admirable  guide. 

Phcedr.  I  always  wonder  at  you,  Socrates  j  for  when  you 
are  in  the  country,  you  really  are  like  a  stranger  who  is  being 
led  about  by  a  guide.  Do  you  ever  cross  the  border  ?  I 
rather  think  that  you  never  venture  even  outside  the  gates. 

Soc.  Very  true,  my  good  friend  ;  and  I  hope  that  you  will 
excuse  me  when  you  hear  the  reason,  which  is,  that  I  am  a 
lover  of  knowledge,  and  the  men  who  dwell  in  the  city  are 
my  teachers,  and  not  the  trees,  or  the  country.  Though  I  do, 
indeed,  believe  that  you  have  found  a  spell  with  which  to  draw 
me  out  of  the  city  into  the  country,  as  hungry  cows  are  led  by 
shaking  before  them  a  bait  of  leaves  or  fruit.     For  only  hold 

18  The  words  "  know  thyself"  were  inscribed  upon  the  temple  of  Apollo 
at  Delphi. 

19  Typho  (ty'fo)  :  a  fearful  monster  with  one  hundred  dragon  heads,  eyes 
that  shot  fire,  and  many  terrible  voices.  He  tried  to  usurp  the  throne  of 
Zeus,  but  failed. 

80  A  willow-like  tree. 

21  Achelous  (Sk'e-lo'us)  :  god  of  the  river  Achelous,  the  largest  in  Greece. 

22  Goddesses  of  lower  rank,  dwelling  in  groves,  forests,  caves,  beside 
springs  and  rivers,  on  hills  and  lonely  islands. 

IO 


146  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

up  the  bait  of  discourse,  and  you  may  lead  me  all  round 
Attica,  and  over  the  wide  world.  And  now  having  arrived,  I 
intend  to  lie  down,  and  do  you  choose  any  posture  in  which 
you  can  read  best.     Begin. 

[Phaedrus  reads  the  speech  ■  of  Lysias  about  love. 
The  lover,  Lysias  claims,  should  be  avoided  as  an  un- 
reasonable, disagreeable,  fickle,  jealous  person,  who  spoils 
the  object  of  his  affection  by  undue  praise,  selfishly  deprives 
him  of  other  friends  and  of  many  like  advantages,  and  at  last 
deserts  him  for  another.  Whereas  the  non-lover  is  a  truly 
disinterested  admirer,  who  desires  at  all  times  only  the  good 
of  his  friend.  His  affection  is  for  the  advantage  of  both,  and 
for  the  injury  of  neither. 

The  speech  is  very  pretentious  in  style,  and  although  it 
contains  a  germ  of  truth,  the  author's  purpose  is  evidently  to 
make  fine  phrases,  and  not  to  arrive  at  a  true  conclusion  about 
his  subject.  When  he  has  finished  reading,  Phaedrus  appeals 
to  Socrates  thus :] 

Now,  Socrates,'  what  do  you  think  ?  Is  not  the  discourse 
excellent,  especially  the  language  ? 

Soc.  Yes  indeed,  admirable  ;  the  effect  on  me  was  ravish- 
ing. And  this  I  owe  to  you,  Phaedrus,  for  I  observed  you 
while  reading  to  be  in  an  ecstasy,  and  thinking  that  you  are 
more  experienced  in  these  matters  than  I  am,  I  followed  your 
example,  and,  like  you,  became  inspired  with  a  divine  frenzy. 

Phcedr.  Indeed,  you  are  pleased  to  be  merry. 

Soc.  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  not  in  earnest  ? 

Phcedr.  Now,  don't  talk  in  that  way,  Socrates,  but  let  me 
have  your  real  opinion  ;  I  adjure  you,  by  the  god  of  friendship, 
to  tell  me  whether  you  think  that  any  Hellene  24  could  have 
said  more  or  spoken  better  on  the  same  subject. 

Soc.  Well,  but  are  you  and  I  expected  to  praise  the  senti- 
ments of  the  author,  or  only  the  clearness,  and  roundness,  and 
accuracy,  and  tournure  of  the  language?  As  to  the 
first  I  willingly  submit  to  your  better  judgment,  for  I 
am  unworthy  to  form  an  opinion,  having  only  attended  to  the 
rhetorical  manner ;  and  I  was  doubting  whether  Lysias  him- 

23  Probably  not  written  by  Lysias  but  invented  by  Plato. 
a«  Greek. 


PH^DRUS  I47 

self  would  be  able  to  defend  that ;  for  I  thought,  though  I 
speak  under  correction,  that  he  repeated  himself  two  or  three 
times,  either  from  want  of  words  or  from  want  of  pains;  and 
also,  he  appeared  to  me  wantonly  ambitious  of  showing  how 
well  he  could  say  the  same  thing  in  two  or  three  ways. 

Phcedr.  Nonsense,  Socrates  ;  that  was  his  exhaustive  treat- 
ment of  the  subject ;  for  he  omitted  nothing ;  this  is  the  special 
merit  of  the  speech,  and  I  do  not  think  that  any  one  could 
have  made  a  fuller  or  better. 

Soc.  I  cannot  go  so  far  as  that  with  you.  Ancient  sages, 
men  and  women,  who  have  spoken  and  written  of  these  things, 
would  rise  up  in  judgment  against  me,  if  I  lightly  assented  to 
you. 

Phcedr.  Who  are  they,  and  where  did  you  hear  anything 
better  than  this  ? 

Soc.  I  am  sure  that  I  must  have  heard  ;  I  don't  remember 
at  this  moment  from  whom  \  perhaps  from  Sappho  25  the  fair, 
Anacreon  26  the  wise  j  or,  possibly,  from  a  prose  writer.  What 
makes  me  say  this  ?  Why,  because  I  perceive  that  my  bosom 
is  full,  and  that  I  could  make  another  speech  as  good  as  that 
of  Lysias  and  different.  Now  I  am  certain  that  this  is  not  an 
invention  of  my  own,  for  I  am  conscious  that  I  know  nothing, 
and  therefore  I  can  only  infer  that  I  have  been  filled  through 
the  ears,  like  a  pitcher  from  the  waters  of  another,  though  I 
have  actually  forgotten  in  my  stupidity  who  was  my  informant. 

Phcedr.  That  is  grand.  But  never  mind  where  you  heard 
the  discourse  or  of  whom ;  let  that,  if  you  will,  be  a  mystery 
not  to  be  divulged  even  at  my  earnest  desire.  But  do  as  you 
say;  promise  to  make  another  and  better  oration  of  equal 
length  on  the  same  subject,  with  other  arguments ;  and  I,  like 
the  nine  Archons,27  will  promise  to  set  up  a  golden  image  at 
Delphi28  not  only  of  myself,  but  of  you,  and  as  large  as  life. 

Soc.  You  are  a  dear  golden  simpleton  if  you 'suppose  me 
to  mean  that  Lysias  has  altogether  missed  the  mark,  and  that 
I  can  make  a  speech  from  which  all  his  arguments  are  to  be 
excluded.     The  worst  of  authors  will  say  something  that  is  to 

25  Sappho  (saffo) :  a  celebrated  Greek  lyric  poetess  living  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventh  century  B.  C. 

»•  Anacreon  (a-nak're-on,  550  (?)  —  B.C.) :  a  famous  Greek  lyric  poet. 

27  Archons  (ar'konz):  the  chief  magistrates  at  Athens,  nine  in  number. 

28  See  Apology,  note  12.     It  was  customary  to  place  there  statues  and 
other  votive  offerings  in  honor  of  the  god. 


I48  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

the  point.  Who,  for  example,  could  speak  on  this  thesis  of 
yours  without  praising  the  discretion  of  the  non-lover  and 
blaming  the  folly  of  the  lover  ?  These  are  the  common- 
3  places  which  must  come  in  (for  what  else  is  there  to  be 
said  ?)  and  must  be  allowed  and  excused  ;  the  only  merit  is 
in  the  arrangement  of  them,  for  there  can  be  none  in  the  in- 
vention ;  but  when  you  leave  the  commonplaces,  then  there 
may  be  some  originality. 

Phcedr.  I  admit  that  there  is  reason  in  that,  and  I  will  be 
reasonable  too,  and  will  allow  you  to  start  with  the  premise 
that  the  lover  is  more  disordered  in  his  wits  than  the  non- 
lover  ;  and  if  you  go  on  after  that  and  make  a  longer  and  bet- 
ter speech  than  Lysias,  and  use  other  arguments,  then  I  say 
again  that  a  statue  you  shall  have  of  beaten  gold,  and  take 
your  place  by  the  colossal  offering  of  the  Cypselids  at  Olym- 
piad 

Soc.  Is  not  the  lover  serious,  because  only  in  fun  I  lay  a 
finger  upon  his  love  ?  And  so,  Phaedrus,  you  really  imagine 
that  I  am  going  to  improve  upon  his  ingenuity  ? 

Phcedr.  There  I  have  you  as  you  had  me,  and  you  must 
speak  "as  you  best  can,"  and  no  mistake.  And  don't  .  .  . 
compel  me  to  say  to  you  as  you  said  to  me,  "  I  know  Socrates 
as  well  as  I  know  myself,  and  he  was  wanting  to  speak,  but  he 
gave  himself  airs. ' '  Rather  I  would  have  you  consider  that 
from  this  place  we  stir  not  until  you  have  unbosomed  yourself 
of  the  speech  ;  for  here  are  we  all  alone,  and  I  am  stronger, 
remember,  and  younger  than  you  ;  therefore  perpend,  and  do 
not  compel  me  to  use  violence. 

Soc.  But,  my  sweet  Phaedrus,  how  can  I  ever  compete  with 
Lysias  in  an  extempore  speech  ?  He  is  a  master  in  his  art  and 
I  am  an  untaught  man. 

Phcedr.  You  see  how  matters  stand  ;  and  therefore  let  there 
be  no  more  pretences ;  for,  indeed,  I  know  the  word  that  is 
irresistible. 

Soc.  Then  don't  say  it. 

'29  Olympia  (o-ljfan'pi-a) :  a  small  plain  in  Elis  near  the  south-western 
coast  of  Greece,  about  no  miles  from  Athens.  Here  was  a  grove  sacred  to 
Zeus,  adorned  with  many  temples,  altars,  statues,  and  votive  offerings.  Of 
the  offerings  of  the  Cypselids,  who  were  descendants  of  Cypselus  (syp'se-lus 
655-625  B.C.),  a  tyrant  of  Corinth,  Grote  says:  "Their  offerings  conse- 
crated at  Olympia  excited  great  admiration,  especially  the  gilt  colossal 
statue  of  Zeus."     [History  of  Greece,  I.,  ch.  9.] 


PH^EDRUS  I49 

Phcedr.  Yes,  but  I  will ;  and  my  word  shall  be  an  oath. 
"  I  say,  or  rather  swear  " — but  what  god  will  be  the  witness 
of  my  oath? — "  I  swear  by  this  plane-tree,  that  unless  you  re- 
peat the  discourse  here,  in  the  face  of  the  plane-tree,  I  will 
never  tell  you  another  \  never  let  you  have  word  of  an- 
other !  " 

Soc.  Villain  !  I  am  conquered  ;  the  poor  lover  of  discourse 
has  no  more  to  say. 

Phcedr.  Then  why  are  you  still  at  your  tricks? 

Soc.  I  am  not  going  to  play  tricks  now  that  you  have  taken 
the  oath,  for  I  cannot  allow  myself  to  be  starved. 

Phcedr.   Proceed. 

Soc.  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  will  do  ? 

Phcedr.    What?  237' 

24  I 

Soc.  I  will  veil  my  face  and  gallop  through  the  dis- 
course as  fast  as  I  can,  for  if  I  see  you,  I  shall  feel  ashamed  and 
not  know  what  to  say. 

Phcedr.  Only  go  on  and  you  may  do  as  you  please. 

[After  an  invocation  to  the  Muses,  Socrates  begins  his  speech, 
which  he  addresses  to  an  imaginary  youth,  by  inquiring  into 
the  nature  and  power  of  love.  He  says  that  in  every  person 
there  are  two  principles,  a  better  and  a  worse,  which  are  in 
conflict  with  each  other.  The  better  one,  reason,  if  allowed 
to  rule,  leads  to  temperance.  The  worse,  desire,  when  vic- 
torious, leads  to  excess.  Excess  has  many  forms  and  many 
names,  and  among  them  is  found  love.] 

And  now,  dear  Phaedrus,  I  shall  pause  for  an  instant  to 
ask  whether  you  do  not  think  me,  as  I  appear  to  myself,  in- 
spired ? 

Phcedr.  Yes,  Socrates,  you  seem  to  have  a  very  unusual  flow 
of  words. 

Soc.  Listen  to  me,  then,  in  silence ;  for  surely  the  place  is 
holy  ;  so  that  you  must  not  wonder,  if,  as  I  proceed,  I  appear 
to  be  in  a  divine  fury,  for  already  I  am  getting  into  dithyram- 
bics.80 

Phcedr,  That  is  quite  true. 

30  The  dithyramb  was  a  kind  of  poetry  of  a  lofty  but  often  inflated  style. 
The  term  was  used  metaphorically,  as  here,  of  any  bombastic  language.  (L. 
and  S.) 


150  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Soc.  And  that  I  attribute  to  you.  But  hear  what  follows, 
and  perhaps  the  fit  may  be  averted  ;  all  is  in  their  hands  above. 
And  now  I  will  go  on  talking  to  my  youth.     Listen  : — 

[Socrates  proceeds  in  much  the  same  strain  as  Lysias,  to  set 
forth  all  the  disadvantages  and  harm  that  result  to  a  youth 
from  his  association  with  a  lover.  His  speech  is  a  parody  on 
that  of  Lysias.  He  shows  that  he  can  surpass  the  rhetoricians 
in  their  own  art.  At  the  same  time  he  develops  still  further 
the  germ  of  truth  presented  by  Lysias,  that  there  is  an  un- 
worthy and  spurious  form  of  love  which  should  be  rejected. 
He  concludes  his  censure  of  the  lover  thus  :] 

Consider  this,  fair  youth,  and  know  that  in  the  friendship 
of  the  lover  there  is  no  real  kindness  :  he  has  an  appetite  and 
wants  to  feed  upon  you. 

"As  wolves  love  lambs  so  lovers  love  their  loves." 

But,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  speaking  in  vdrse,  and  therefore 
I  had  better  make  an  end  ;  that  is  enough. 

Phcedr.  I  thought  that  you  were  only  half-way  and  were 
going  to  make  a  similar  speech  about  all  the  advantages  of 
accepting  the  non-lover.     Why  don't  you  go  on? 

Soc.  Does  not  your  simplicity  observe  that  I  have  got  out 
of  dithyrambics  into  epics ;  and  if  my  censure  was  in  verse, 
what  will  my  praise  be?  Don't  you  see  that  I  am  already 
overtaken  by  the  Nymphs  to  whom  you  have  mischievously 
exposed  me?  And  therefore  I  will  only  add  that  the  non -lover 
has  all  the  advantages  in  which  the  lover  is  charged  with  being 
deficient.  And  now  I  will  say  no  more;  there  has  been  enough 
said  of  both  of  them.  Leaving  the  tale  to  its  fate,  I  will  cross 
the  river  and  make  the  best  of  my  way  home,  lest  a  worse 
thing  be  inflicted  upon  me  by  you. 

Phcedr.  Not  yet,  Socrates  j  not  until  the  heat  of  the  day 
has  passed  ;  don't  you  see  that  the  hour  is  noon,  and  the  sun 
is  standing  over  our  heads  ?  Let  us  rather  stay  and  talk  over 
what  has  been  said,  and  then  return  in  the  cool. 

Soc.  Your  love  of  discourse,  Phaedrus,  is  superhuman,  simply 
marvelous,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  any  one  of  your 
contemporaries  who  in  one  way  or  another  has  either  made  or 


PH^DRUS  151 

been  the  cause  of  others  making  an  equal  number  of  speeches. 
I  would  except  Simmias31  the  Theban,  but  all  the  rest  are  far 
behind  you.  And  now  I  do  verily  believe  that  you  have  been 
the  cause  of  another. 

Phcedr.  That  is  good  news.     But  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Soc.  I  mean  to  say  that  as  I  was  about  to  cross  the  stream 
the  usual  sign  was  given  to  me  ;  that  is  the  sign  which  never 
bids  but  always  forbids  me  to  do  what  I  am  going  to  do  ^  ;  and 
I  thought  that  I  heard  a  voice  saying  in  my  ear  that  I  had 
been  guilty  of  impiety,  and  that  I  must  not  go  away  until  I  had 
made  an  atonement.  Now  I  am  a  diviner,  though  not  a  very 
good  one,  but  I  have  enough  religion  for  my  own  needs,  as  you 
might  say  of  a  bad  writer — his  writing  is  good  enough  for 
him.  And,  O  my  friend,  how  singularly  prophetic  is  the  soul ! 
For  at  the  time  I  had  a  sort  of  misgiving,  and,  like  Ibycus,33 
"  I  was  troubled,"  and  I  suspected  that  I  might  be  receiving 
honor  from  men  at  the  expense  of  sinning  against  the  gods. 
Now  I  am  aware  of  the  error. 

Phcedr.  What  error  ? 

Soc.  That  was  a  dreadful  speech  which  you  brought  with 
you,  and  you  made  me  utter  one  as  bad. 

Phcedr.   How  was  that  ? 

Soc.  Foolish,  I  say,  and  in  a  degree  impious  ;  and  what  can 
be  more  dreadful  than  this  ? 

Phcedr.  Nothing,  if  the  speech  was  really  such  as  you  de- 
scribe. 

Soc.  Well,  and  is  not  Eros  M  the  son  of  Aphrodite M  a 
mighty  god  ? 

Phcedr.  That  is  the  language  of  mankind  about  him. 

Soc.  But  that  was  not  the  language  of  Lysias'  speech  any 
more  than  of  that  other  speech  uttered  through  my  lips  when 
under  the  influence  of  your  enchantments,  and  which  I  may 
call  yours  and  not  mine.  For  Love,  if  he  be  a  god  or  divine, 
cannot  be  evil.  Yet  this  was  the  error  of  both  our 
speeches.  There  was  also  a  solemnity  about  them  which 
was  truly  charming ;  they  had  no  truth  or  honesty  in  them, 
and  yet  they  pretended  to  be  something,  hoping  to  succeed  in 

31  See  Phaedo,  note  1. 

32  See  Apology,  31  and  40. 

33  Ibycus  (ib'^-cus)  :  a  Greek  lyric  poet  who  wrote  about  530  B.  c. 

34  Eros  (e'ros)  ■  the  god  of  love.     See  Symposium,  note  16. 
88  See  Symposium,  note  ia. 


152  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

deceiving  the  manikins  of  earth  and  be  famous  among  them. 
And  therefore  I  must  have  a  purgation.  And  now  I  bethink 
me  of  an  ancient  purgation  of  mythological  error  which  was 
devised,  not  by  Homer36  for  he  never  had  the  wit  to  discover 
why  he  was  blind,  but  by  Stesichorus,37  who  was  a  philosopher 
and  knew  the  reason  why ;  and,  therefore,  when  he  lost  his 
eyes,  for  that  was  the  penalty  which  was  inflicted  upon  him  for 
reviling  the  lovely  Helen,  he  purged  himself.  And  the  pur- 
gation was  a  recantation,  which  began  with  the  words : — 

"That  was  a  lie  of  mine  when  I  said  that  thou  never  embarkedst  on 
the  swift  ships,  or  wentest  to  the  walls  of  Troy." 

And  when  he  had  completed  his  poem,  which  is  called  "  the 
recantation,"  immediately  his  sight  returned  to  him.  Now 
I  will  be  wiser  than  either  Stesichorus  or  Homer,  in  that  I  am 
going  to  make  a  recantation  before  I  lose  mine  ;  and  this  I 
will  attempt,  not  as  before,  veiled  and  ashamed,  but  with 
forehead  bold  and  bare. 

Phcedr.  There  is  nothing  which  I  should  like  better  to 
hear. 

Soc.  Only  think,  my  good  Phaedrus,  what  an  utter  want 
of  delicacy  was  shown  in  the  two  discourses;  I  mean,  in  my 
own  and  in  the  one  which  you  recited  out  of  the  book. 
Would  not  any  one  who  was  himself  of  a  noble  and  gentle 
nature,  and  who  loved  or  ever  had  loved  a  nature  like  his 
own,  when  he  heard  us  speaking  of  the  petty  causes  of  lovers' 
jealousies,  and  of  their  exceeding  animosities,  and  the  injuries 
which  they  do  to  their  beloved,  have  imagined  that  our  ideas 
of  love  were  taken  from  some  haunt  of  sailors  to  which  good 
manners  were  unknown — he  would  certainly  never  have  ad- 
mitted the  justice  of  our  censure  ? 

Phcedr.   Certainly  not. 

Soc.  Therefore,  because  I  blush  at  the  thought  of  this  per- 
son, and  also  because  I  am  afraid  of  the  god  Love,  I  desire  to 
wash  down  that  gall  and  vinegar  with  a  wholesome  draught ; 
and  I  would  counsel  Lysias  not  to  delay,  but  to  write  another 

86  See  Apology,  note  39.  According  to  tradition  Homer  was  a  wandering 
minstrel,  poor  and  blind. 

37  Stesichorus  (ste-sfk'o-rus,  632-552  B.C.):  a  celebrated  Greek  poet  of 
Sicily.  There  is  a  fable  of  his  being  miraculously  struck  blind  after  writing 
an  attack  upon  Helen  (see  Apology,  note  21),  and  recovering  his  sight  after 
he  composed  a  recantation. 


PH^IDRUS 


153 


discourse,  which  shall  prove  other  things  being  equal  that  the 
lover  ought  to  be  accepted  rather  than  the  non-lover. 

Phosdr.  Be  assured  that  he  shall.  You  shall  speak  the 
praises  of  the  lover,  and  Lysias  shall  be  made  to  write  them  in 
another  discourse.     I  will  compel  him  to  do  this. 

Soc.  You  will  be  true  to  your  nature  in  that,  and  there- 
fore I  believe  you. 

Phcedr.   Speak,  and  fear  not. 

Soc.  But  where  is  the  fair  youth  whom  I  was  addressing, 
and  who  ought  to  listen,  in  order  that  he  may  not  be  misled 
by  one  side  before  he  has  heard  the  other  ? 

Phcedr.  He  is  close  at  hand,  and  always  at  your  service. 

[The  second  discourse  of  Socrates  is  a  serious  attempt  244" 
on  his  part  to  make  clear  what  he  regards  as  the  truth 
about  love  in  its  highest  form.  He  begins — "  That  was  a  lie  in 
which  I  said  that  the  beloved  ought  to  accept  the  non-lover 
and  reject  the  lover,  because  the  one  is  sane  and  the  other 
mad.  For  that  might  have  been  truly  said  if  madness  were 
simply  an  evil ;  but  there  is  also  a  madness  which  is  the  spe- 
cial gift  of  heaven  and  the  source  of  the  chiefest  blessings 
among  men. ' '  This  divine  madness  is  of  four  kinds — the  gift 
of  prophecy,  religious  ecstasy  in  which  the  soul  is  purified 
from  sin,  poetical  inspiration,  and  lastly  the  madness  of 
love.] 

I  might  tell  of  many  other  noble  deeds  which  have  sprung 
from  inspired  madness.  And  therefore,  let  no  one  frighten 
or  flutter  us  by  saying  that  temperate  love  is  preferable  to 
mad  love,  but  let  him  further  show,  if  he  would  carry  off  the 
palm,  that  love  is  not  sent  by  the  gods  for  any  good  to  lover 
or  beloved.  And  we,  on  our  part,  will  prove  in  answer  to 
him  that  the  madness  of  love  is  the  greatest  of  Heaven's 
blessings,  and  the  proof  shall  be  one  which  the  wise  will  re- 
ceive, and  the  witling  disbelieve.  And,  first  of  all,  let  us 
inquire  what  is  the  truth  about  the  affections  and  actions  of 
the  soul,  divine  as  well  as  human.  And  thus  we  begin  our 
proof: — 

[The  soul  is  immortal  because  it  is  the  source  of  all  motion 
both  in  itself  and  in  all  other  things.] 


154  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Her  form  is  a  theme  of  divine  and  large  discourse  j  human 
language  may,  however,  speak  of  this  briefly,  and  in  a  figure. 

^  Let  our  figure  be  of  a  composite  nature, — a  pair  of 
4  winged  horses  and  a  charioteer.  Now  the  winged 
horses  and  the  charioteer  of  the  gods  are  all  of  them  noble, 
and  of  noble  breed,  while  ours  are  mixed  ;  and  we  have  a 
charioteer  who  drives  them  in  a  pair,  and  one  of  them  is 
noble  and  of  noble  origin,  and  the  other  is  ignoble  and  of  ig- 
noble origin  ;  and,  as  might  be  expected,  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  in  managing  them.  I  will  endeavor  to  ex- 
plain to  you  in  what  way  the  mortal  differs  from  the  immor- 
tal creature.  The  soul  or  animate  being  has  the  care  of  the 
inanimate,  and  traverses  the  whole  heaven  in  divers  forms 
appearing  ;  when  perfect  and  fully  winged  she  soars  upward, 
and  is  the  ruler  of  the  universe;  while  the  imperfect  soul 
loses  her  feathers,  and  drooping  in  her  flight  at  last  settles  on 
the  solid  ground, — there,  finding  a  home,  she  receives  an 
earthly  frame  which  appears  to  be  self-moved,  but  is  really 
moved  by  her  power  ;  and  this  composition  of  soul  and  body 
is  called  a  living  and  mortal  creature.  For  no  such  union 
can  be  reasonably  believed,  or  at  all  proved  to  be  other  than 
mortal  j  although  fancy  may  imagine  a  god  whom,  not  hav- 
ing seen  nor  surely  known,  we  invent — such  a  one,  an  im- 
mortal creature  having  a  body,  and  having  also  a  soul  which 
have  been  united  in  all  time.  Let  that,  however,  be  as  God 
wills,  and  be  spoken  of  acceptably  to  him.  But  the  reason 
why  the  soul  loses  her  feathers  should  be  explained,  and  is  as 
follows: — 

The  wing  is  intended  to  soar  aloft  and  carry  that  which 
gravitates  downwards  into  the  upper  region,  which  is  the 
dwelling  of  the  gods ;  and  this  is  that  element  of  the  body 
which  is  most  akin  to  the  divine.  Now  the  divine  is  beauty, 
wisdom,  goodness,  and  the  like ;  and  by  these  the  wing  of 
the  soul  is  nourished,  and  grows  apace  ;  but  when  fed  upon 
evil  and  foulness,  and  the  like,  wastes  and  falls  away.  Zeus, 
the  mighty  lord  holding  the  reins  of  a  winged  chariot, 
leads  the  way  in  heaven,  ordering  all  and  caring  for 
all ;  and  there  follows  him  the  heavenly  array  of  gods  and 
demi-gods,  divided  into  eleven  bands;  for  only  Hestia^is 

88  Hestia  (hes'tf-a) :  goddess  of  the  hearth,  corresponding  to  the  Roman 
Vesta. 


PH^DRUS  155 

left  at  home  in  the  house  of  heaven  ;  but  the  rest  of  the 
twelve  greater  deities  march  in  their  appointed  order.  And 
they  see  in  the  interior  of  heaven  many  blessed  sights ;  and 
there  are  ways  to  and  fro,  along  which  the  happy  gods  are 
passing,  each  one  fulfilling  his  own  work ;  and  any  one  may 
follow  who  pleases,  for  jealousy  has  no  place  in  the  heavenly 
choir.  This  is  within  the  heaven.  But  when  they  go  to 
feast  and  festival,  then  they  move  right  up  the  steep  ascent, 
and  mount  the  top  of  the  dome  of  heaven.  Now  the  chariots 
of  the  gods,  self-balanced,  upward  glide  in  obedience  to  the 
rein  ;  but  the  others  have  a  difficulty,  for  the  steed  who  has 
evil  in  him,  if  he  has  not  been  properly  trained  by  the  char- 
ioteer, gravitates  and  inclines  and  sinks  towards  the  earth  : 
and  this  is  the  hour  of  agony  and  extremest  conflict  of  the 
soul.  For  the  immortal  souls,  when  they  are  at  the  end  of 
their  course,  go  out  and  stand  upon  the  back  of  heaven,  and 
the  revolution  of  the  spheres  carries  them  round,  and  they 
behold  the  world  beyond.  Now  of  the  heaven  which  is  above 
the  heavens,  no  earthly  poet  has  sung  or  ever  will  sing  in  a 
worthy  manner.  But  I  must  tell,  for  I  am  bound  to  speak 
truly  when  speaking  of  the  truth.  The  colorless  and  formless 
and  intangible  essence  is  visible  to  the  mind,  which  is'  the 
only  lord  of  the  soul.  Circling  around  this  in  the  region 
above  the  heavens  is  the  place  of  true  knowledge.  And  as 
the  divine  intelligence,  and  that  of  every  other  soul  which  is 
rightly  nourished,  is  fed  upon  mind  and  pure  knowledge, 
such  an  intelligent  soul  is  glad  at  once  more  beholding  being ; 
and  feeding  on  the  sight  of  truth  is  replenished,  until  the 
revolution  of  the  worlds  brings  her  round  again  to  the  same 
place.  During  the  revolution  she  beholds  justice,  temper- 
ance, and  knowledge  absolute,  not  in  the  form  of  generation 
or  of  relation,  which  men  call  existence,  but  knowledge  ab- 
solute in  existence  absolute ;  and  beholding  other  existences 
in  like  manner,  and  feeding  upon  them,  she  passes  down  into 
the  interior  of  the  heavens  and  returns  home,  and  there  the 
charioteer  putting  up  his  horses  at  the  stall,  gives  them  am- 
brosia to  eat  and  nectar  to  drink. 

This  is  the  life  of  the  gods  ;  but  of  other  souls,  that  which 
follows  God  best  and  is  likest  to  him  lifts  the  head  of  the        g 
charioteer  into  the  outer  world  and  is  carried  round  in 
the   revolution,  troubled  indeed  by  the  steeds,  and  behold- 


156  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

ing  true  being,  but  hardly  ;  another  rises  and  falls,  and  sees, 
and  again  fails  to  see  by  reason  of  the  unruliness  of  the  steeds. 
The  rest  of  the  souls  are  also  longing  after  the  upper  world 
and  they  all  follow,  but  not  being  strong  enough  they  sink 
into  the  gulf  as  they  are  carried  round,  plunging,  treading  on 
one  another,  striving  to  be  first ;  and  there  is  confusion  and 
the  extremity  of  effort,  and  many  of  them  are  lamed  or  have 
their  wings  broken  through  the  ill  driving  of  the  charioteers  ; 
and  all  of  them  after  a  fruitless  toil  go  away  without  being 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  being,  and  are  nursed  with  the 
food  of  opinion.  The  reason  of  their  great  desire  to  behold 
the  plain  of  truth  is  that  the  food  which  is  suited  to  the  high- 
est part  of  the  soul  comes  out  of  that  meadow  ;  and  the  wing 
on  which  the  soul  soars  is  nourished  with  this.  And  there  is 
a  law  of  the  goddess  Retribution,  that  the  soul  which  attains 
any  vision  of  truth  in  company  with  the  god  is  preserved 
from  harm  until  the  next  period,  and  he  who  always  attains 
is  always  unharmed.  But  when  she  is  unable  to  follow,  and 
fails  to  behold  the  vision  of  truth,  and  through  some  ill-hap 
sinks  beneath  the  double  load  of  forgetfulness  and  vice,  and 
her  feathers  fall  from  her  and  she  drops  to  earth,  then  the 
law  ordains  that  this  soul  shall  in  the  first  generation  pass, 
not  into  that  of  any  other  animal,  but  only  of  man  ;  and  the 
soul  which  has  seen  most  of  truth  shall  come  to  the  birth  as  a 
philosopher  or  artist,  or  musician  or  lover ;  that  which  has 
seen  truth  in  the  second  degree  shall  be  a  righteous  king  or 
warrior  or  lord ;  the  soul  which  is  of  the  third  class  shall  be  a 
politician  or  economist  or  trader  j  the  fourth  shall  be  a  lover 
of  gymnastic  toils  or  a  physician  ;  the  fifth  a  prophet  or  hiero- 
phant 39 ;  to  the  sixth  a  poet  or  imitator  will  be  appropriate  ; 
to  the  seventh  the  life  of  an  artisan  or  husbandman  ;  to  the 
eighth  that  of  a  Sophist  or  demagogue ;  to  the  ninth  that  of  a 
tyrant ;  all  these  are  states  of  probation,  in  which  he  who 
lives  righteously  improves,  and  he  who  lives  unrighteously 
deteriorates  his  lot. 

Ten  thousand  years  must  elapse  before  the  soul  can  return 
to  the  place  from  whence  she  came,  for  she  cannot  grow  her 
wings  in  less;  only  the  soul  of  a  philosopher,    guile- 
less and  true,  or  the  soul  of  a  lover,  who  is  not  without 
philosophy,  may  acquire  wings  in  the  third  recurring  period  of 
"•  See  Protagoras,  note  27. 


PH^DRUS  157 

a  thousand  years :  and  if  they  choose  this  life  three  times  in 
succession,  then  they  have  their  wings  given  them,  and  go 
away  at  the  end  of  three  thousand  years.  But  the  others  re- 
ceive judgment  when  they  have  completed  their  first  life,  and 
after  the  judgment  they  go,  some  of  them  to  the  houses  of  cor- 
rection which  are  under  the  earth,  and  are  punished ;  others 
to  some  place  in  heaven  whither  they  are  lightly  borne  by 
justice,  and  there  they  live  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  life 
which  they  led  here  when  in  the  form  of  men.  And  at  the 
end  of  the  first  thousand  years  the  good  souls  and  also  the  evil 
souls  both  come  to  cast  lots  and  choose  their  second  life,  and 
they  may  take  any  that  they  like.  And  then  the  soul  of  the 
man  may  pass  into  the  life  of  a  beast,  or  from  the  beast  again 
into  the  man.  But  the  soul  of  him  who  has  never  seen  the 
truth  will  not  pass  into  the  human  form,  for  man  ought  to 
have  intelligence  of  universals,  proceeding  from  many  particu- 
lars of  sense  to  one  conception  of  reason ;  and  this  is  the 
recollection  of  those  things  which  our  soul  once  saw  when  in 
company  with  God — when  looking  down  from  above  on  that 
which  we  now  call  being  and  upwards  towards  the  true  being. 
And  therefore  the  mind  of  the  philosopher  alone  has  wings ; 
and  this  is  just,  for  he  is  always,  according  to  the  measure  of 
his  abilities,  clinging  in  recollection  to  those  things  in  which 
God  abides,  and  in  beholding  which  He  is  what  he  is.  And 
he  who  employs  aright  these  memories  is  ever  being  initiated 
into  perfect  mysteries  and  alone  becomes  truly  perfect.  But, 
as  he  forgets  earthly  interests  and  is  rapt  in  the  divine,  the 
vulgar  deem  him  mad,  and  rebuke  him ;  they  do  not  see  that 
he  is  inspired. 

Thus  far  I  have  been  speaking  of  the  fourth  and  last  kind 
of  madness,  which  is  imputed  to  him  who,  when  he  sees  the 
beauty  of  earth,  is  transported  with  the  recollection  of  the  true 
beauty  j  he  would  like  to  fly  away,  but  he  cannot ;  he  is  like 
a  bird  fluttering  and  looking  upward  and  careless  of  the  world 
below  ;  and  he  is  therefore  esteemed  mad.  And  I  have  shown 
that  this  is  of  all  inspirations  the  noblest  and  best,  and  comes 
of  the  best,  and  that  he  who  has  part  or  lot  in  this  madness  is 
called  a  lover  of  the  beautiful.  For,  as  has  been  already 
said,  every  soul  of  man  has  in  the  way  of  nature  beheld 
true  being ;  this  was  the  condition  of  her  passing  into  the  form 
of  man.      But  all  men  do  not  easily  recall  the  things  of  the 


158  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

other  world ;  they  may  have  seen  them  for  a  short  time  only, 
or  they  may  have  been  unfortunate  when  they  fell  to  earth, 
and  may  have  lost  the  memory  of  the  holy  things  which  they 
saw  there,  through  some  evil  and  corrupting  association.  Few 
there  are  who  retain  the  remembrance  of  them  sufficiently  ; 
and  they,  when  they  behold  any  image  of  that  other  world, 
are  rapt  in  amazement ;  but  they  are  ignorant  of  what  this 
means,  because  they  have  no  clear  perceptions.  For  there  is 
no  light  in  the  earthly  copies  of  justice  or  temperance  or  any 
of  the  higher  qualities  which  are  precious  to  souls :  they  are 
seen  but  through  a  glass  dimly  ;  and  there  are  few  who,  going 
to  the  images,  behold  in  them  the  realities,  and  they  only  with 
difficulty.  They  might  have  seen  beauty  shining  in  brightness, 
when,  with  the  happy  band  following  in  the  train  of  Zeus,  as 
we  philosophers  did,  or  with  other  gods  as  others  did,  they 
saw  a  vision  and  were  initiated  into  most  blessed  mysteries, 
which  we  celebrated  in  our  state  of  innocence;  and  having  no 
feeling  of  evils  as  yet  to  come;  beholding  apparitions  innocent 
and  simple  and  calm  and  happy  as  in  a  mystery ;  shining  in 
pure  light,  pure  ourselves  and  not  yet  enshrined  in  that  living 
tom»b  which  we  carry  about,  now  that  we  are  imprisoned  in 
the  body,  as  in  an  oyster -shell.  Let  me  linger  thus  long  over 
the  memory  of  scenes  which  have  passed  away. 

But  of  beauty,  I  repeat  again  that  we  saw  her  there  shining 
in  company  with  the  celestial  forms ;  and  coming  to  earth  we 
find  her  here  too,  shining  in  clearness  through  the  clearest 
aperture  of  sense.  For  sight  is  the  keenest  of  our  bodily 
senses ;  though  not  by  that  is  wisdom  seen,  for  her  loveliness 
would  have  been  transporting  if  there  had  been  a  visible  image 
of  her,  and  this  is  true  of  the  loveliness  of  the  other  ideas  as 
well.  But  beauty  only  has  this  portion,  that  she  is  at  once 
the  loveliest  and  also  the  most  apparent.  Now  he  who  has  not 
been  lately  initiated,  or  who  has  become  corrupted,  is  not 
easily  carried  out  of  this  world  to  the  sight  of  absolute  beauty 
in  the  other;  he  looks  only  at  that  which  has  the  name  Of 
beauty  in  this  world,  and  instead  of  being  awed  at  the  sight 
of  her,  like  a  brutish  beast  he  rushes  on  to  enjoy.  .  .  . 
But  he  whose  initiation  is  recent,  and  who  has  been  the 
spectator  of  many  glories  in  the  other  world,  is  amazed 
when  he  sees  any  one  having  a  godlike  face  or  form,  which 
is  the  expression  or  imitation  of  divine  beauty;  and  at  first  a 


PH^DRUS 


159 


shudder  runs  through  him,  and  some  "misgiving"  of  a  former 
world  steals  over  him ;  then  looking  upon  the  face  of  his  be- 
loved as  of  a  god  he  reverences  him,  and  if  he  were  not  afraid 
of  being  thought  a  downright  madman,  he  would  sacrifice  to 
his  beloved  as  to  the  image  of  a  god. 

[When  the  lover  beholds  the  divine  beauty  of  his  beloved  he 
receives  the  effluence  of  that  beauty  into  his  own  soul,  and  by 
it  the  nobler  and  diviner  part  of  his  nature  is  nourished.  He 
is  filled  with  joy,  because  the  wing  of  his  soul  thus  begins  to 
grow,  and  he  is  happy  only  when  in  the  presence  of  his  be- 
loved. When  the  beloved  is  absent,  and  the  holy  effluence 
is  withdrawn,  this  growth  of  the  soul's  wing  ceases,  and  the 
lover  is  filled  with  pain  and  unrest.  He  is  constrained  to  flee 
to  his  beloved  as  to  a  physician.] 

And  this  state,  my  dear  imaginary  youth,  is  by  men  called 
love,  and  among  the  gods  has  a  name  which  you,  in  your  sim- 
plicity, may  be  inclined  to  mock  ;  there  are  two  lines  in  honor 
of  love  in  the  Homeric  Apocrypha  *>  in  which  the  name  occurs. 
One  of  them  is  rather  outrageous,  and  is  not  quite  metrical ; 
they  are  as  follow  : — 

"  Mortals  call  him  Eros  (love), 

But  the  immortals  call  him  Pteros  (fluttering  dove) 
Because  fluttering  of  wings  is  a  necessity  to  him." 

You  may  believe  this  or  not  as  you  like.  At  any  rate  the 
loves  of  lovers  and  their  causes  are  such  as  I  have  described. 

[Now  the  character  of  the  lover  depends  upon  the  god  whom 
he  followed  in  the  upper  world,  and  this  same  character  the 
lover  tries  to  cultivate  in  the  object  of  his  love.  The  follow- 
ers of  every  god] 

seek  a  love  who  is  to  be  like  their  god,  and  when  they  have 
found  him,  they  themselves  imitate  their  god,  and  persuade 
their  love  to  do  the  same,  and  bring  him  into  harmony  with 
the  form  and  ways  of  the  god  as  far  as  they  can  ;  for  they 
have  no  feelings  of  envy  or  mean  enmity  towards  their  beloved, 

40  Writings  falsely  attributed  to  Homer. 


l6o  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

but  they  do  their  utmost  to  create  in  him  the  greatest  likeness 
of  themselves  and  the  god  whom  they  honor.  And  the  de- 
sire of  the  lover,  if  effected,  and  the  initiation  of  which  I 
speak  into  the  mysteries  of  true  love,  is  thus  fair  and  blissful 
to  the  beloved  when  he  is  chosen  by  the  lover  who  is  driven 
mad  by  love. 

And  so  the  beloved  who,  like  a  god,  has  received  ev- 
J?=  erytrue  and  loyal  service  from  his  lover,  not  in  pretense 
but  in  reality,  being  also  himself  of  a  nature  friendly  to 
his  admirer,  if  in  former  days  he  has  blushed  to  own  his  passion 
and  turned  away  his  lover,  because  his  youthful  companions 
or  others  slanderously  told  him  that  he  would  be  disgraced, 
now  as  years  advance,  at  the  appointed  age  and  time  is  led  to 
receive  him  into  communion.  For  fate,  which  has  ordained 
that  there  shall  be  no  friendship  among 'the  evil,  has  also  or- 
dained that  there  shall  ever  be  friendship  among  the  good. 
And  when  he  has  received  him  into  communion  and  intimacy, 
then  the  beloved  is  amazed  at  the  good-will  of  the  lover ;  he 
recognizes  that  the  inspired  friend  is  worth  all  other  friend- 
ship or  kinships,  which  have  nothing  of  friendship  in  them  in 
comparison.  .  .  .  After  this  their  happiness  depends  upon 
their  self-control ;  if  the  better  elements  of  the  mind  which  lead 
to  order  and  philosophy  prevail,  then  they  pass  their  life  in  this 
world  in  happiness  and  harmony — masters  of  themselves  and 
orderly — enslaving  the  vicious  and  emancipating  the  virtuous 
elements ;  and  when  the  end  comes,  being  light  and  ready  to  fly 
away,  they  conquer  in  one  of  the  three  heavenly  or  truly  Olym- 
pian victories 41 ;  nor  can  human  discipline  or  divine  inspiration 
confer  any  greater  blessing  on  man  than  this. 

[If,  however,  they  abandon  philosophy  and  lead  the  lower 
life  of  ambition,  they  lose  the  fairest  reward  which  might  have 
been  theirs ;  and  still  their  destiny  is  not  an  unhappy  one.] 

For  those  who  have  once  begun  the  heavenward  pilgrimage 
may  not  go  down  again  to  darkness  and  the  journey  beneath 
the  earth,  but  they  live  in  light  always ;  happy  companions  in 
their  pilgrimage,  and  when  the  time  comes  at  which  they  re- 
ceive their  wings  they  have  the  same  plumage  because  of  their 
love. 

41  Compare  249. 


PH^DRUS  l6l 

Thus  great  are  the  heavenly  blessings  which  the  friendship 
of  a  lover  will  confer  on  you,  my  youth.  Whereas  the  at- 
tachment of  the  non-lover  which  is  just  a  vulgar  compound 
of  temperance  and  niggardly  earthly  ways  and  motives,  will 
breed  meanness — praised  by  the  vulgar  as  virtue  in  your 
inmost  soul ;  will  send  you  bowling  round  the  earth  25?" 
during  a  period  of  nine  thousand  years,  and  leave  you 
a  fool  in  the  world  below.42 

And  thus,  dear  Eros,  I  have  made  and  paid  my  recantation, 
as  well  as  I  could  and  as  fairly  as  I  could  ;  the  poetical  fig- 
ures I  was  compelled  to  use,  because  Phaedrus  would  have 
them.  And  now  forgive  the  past  and  accept  the  present,  and 
be  gracious  and  merciful  to  me,  and  do  not  deprive  me  of 
sight  or  take  from  me  the  art  of  love,  but  grant  that  I  may  be 
yet  more  esteemed  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair.  And  if  Phaedrus 
or  I  myself  said  anything  objectionable  in  our  first  speeches, 
blame  Lysias,  who  is  the  father  of  the  brat,  and  let  us  have 
no  more  of  his  progeny  j  bid  him  study  philosophy,  like  his 
brother  Polemarchus  ;  and  then  his  lover  Phaedrus  will  no 
longer  halt  between  two,  but  dedicate  himself  wholly  to  love 
and  philosophical  discourses. 

Phcedr.  I  say  with  you,  Socrates,  may  this  come  true  if 
this  be  for  my  good.  But  why  did  you  make  this  discourse 
of  yours  so  much  finer  than  the  other  ?  I  wonder  at  that. 
And  I  begin  to  be  afraid  that  I  shall  lose  conceit  of  Lysias, 
even  if  he  be  willing  to  make  another  as  long  as  yours,  which 
I  doubt.  For  one  of  our  politicians  lately  took  to  abusing 
him  on  this  very  account;  he  would  insist  on  calling  him  a 
speech-writer.  So  that  a  feeling  of  pride  may  probably  induce 
him  to  give  up  writing. 

Soc.  That  is  an  amusing  notion ;  but  I  think  that  you  are  a 
little  mistaken  in  your  friend  if  you  imagine  that  he  is  fright- 
ened at  every  noise  ;  and,  possibly,  you  think  that  his  assail- 
ant was  in  earnest? 

Phcedr.  I  thought,  Socrates,  that  he  was.  And  you  are 
aware  that  the  most  powerful  and  considerable  men  among 
our  statesmen  are  ashamed  of  writing  speeches  and  leaving 
them  in  a  written  form  because  they  are  afraid  of  posterity, 
and  do  not  like  to  be  called  Sophists. 

43  Compare  249. 
II 


l62  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

[Socrates  replies  that  it  is  only  a  case  of  sour  grapes  with 
the  assailants  of  Lysias.  As  a  matter  of  fact  there  is  noth- 
ing of  which  the  great  politicians  are  so  fond  as  of  writing 
speeches.  They  seek  to  display  their  own  wisdom  and  attain 
immortality  by  the  authorship  of  laws.  A  king  or  an  orator 
who  does  attain  immortality  through  his  laws  is  looked  upon 
by  posterity  as  a  god,  and  such  he  considers  himself.  Since 
the  politicians  are  really  great  rhetoricians,  in  reproaching 
Lysias  they  would  be  casting  a  slur  on  their  own  favorite  pur- 
suit.] 

Soc.  Any  one  may  see  that  there  is  no  disgrace  in  the  fact 
of  writing? 

Phcedr.   Certainly  not. 

Soc.  There  may  however  be  a  disgrace  in  writing,  not  well, 
but  badly? 

Phcedr.  That  is  true. 

Soc.  And  what  is  well  and  what  is  badly, — need  we  ask 
Lysias,  or  any  other  poet  or  orator,  who  ever  wrote  or  will 
write  either  a  political  or  any  other  work,  in  metre  or  out  of 
metre,  poet  or  prose  writer,  -to  teach  us  this? 

Phcedr.  Need  we  ?  What  motive  has  a  man  to  live  if  not 
for  the  pleasures  of  discourse  ?  Surely  he  would  not  live  for 
the  sake  of  bodily  pleasures,  which  almost  always  have  pre- 
vious pain  as  a  condition  of  them,  and  therefore  are  rightly 
called  slavish. 

Soc.  There  is  time  yet.  And  I  can  fancy  that  the  grass- 
hoppers who  are  still  chirruping  in  the  sun  over  our  heads 
are  talking  to  one  another  and  looking  at  us.  What 
would  they  say  if  they  saw  that  we  also,  like  the  many, 
are  not  talking  but  slumbering  at  midday,  lulled  by  their 
voices,  too  indolent  to  think  ?  They  would  have  a  right  to 
laugh  at  us,  and  might  imagine  that  we  are  slaves  coming  to 
our  place  of  resort,  who  like  sheep  lie  asleep  at  noon  about  the 
fountain.  But  if  they  see  us  discoursing,  and  like  Odysseus 
sailing  by  their  siren  voices,43  they  may  perhaps,  out  of  respect, 
give  us  of  the  gifts  which  they  receive  of  the  gods  and  give 
to  men. 

43  See  Symposium,  note  35.  When  the  Greek  hero  Odysseus  passed  the 
island  of  the  Sirens  on  his  way  home  from  the  Trojan  War,  he  had  the  ears 
of  his  companions  stopped  with  wax  and  himself  bound  to  the  mast,  so  that 
they  all  sailed  by  in  safety. 


PH^EDRUS  163 

Phcedr.  What  gifts  do  you  mean  ?     I  never  heard  of  any. 

Soc.  A  lover  of  music  like  yourself  ought  surely  to  have 
heard  the  story  of  the  grasshoppers,  who  are  said  to  have  been 
human  beings  in  an  age  before  the  Muses.  And  when  the 
Muses  came  and  song  appeared  they  were  ravished  with  de- 
light j  and  singing  always,  never  thought  of  eating  and  drink- 
ing, until  at  last  they  forgot  and  died.  And  now  they  live 
again  in  the  grasshoppers  ;  and  this  is  the  return  which  the 
Muses  make  to  them, — they  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any 
more,  but  are  always  singing  from  the  moment  that  they  are 
born,  and  never  eating  or  drinking  ;  and  when  they  die  they 
go  and  inform  the  Muses  in  heaven  who  honors  them  on  earth. 
They  win  the  love  of  Terpsichore44  for  the  dancers  by  their  re- 
port of  them  ;  of  Erato 45  for  the  lovers,  and  of  the  other  Muses 
for  those  who  do  them  honor,  according  to  the  several  ways 
of  honoring  them  :  of  Calliope 46  the  eldest  Muse,  and  of  her 
who  is  next  to  her 47  for  the  votaries  of  philosophy ;  for  these 
are  the  Muses  who  are  chiefly  concerned  with  heaven  and  the 
ideas,  divine  as  well  as  human,  and  they  have  the  sweetest  ut- 
terance. For  many  reasons,  then,  we  ought  always  to  talk 
and  not  to  sleep  at  midday. 

Phcedr.   Let  us  talk. 

Soc.  Shall  we  discuss  the  rules  of  writing  and  speech  as  we 
were  proposing? 

Phcedr.  Very  good.  2*o- 

[The  first  rule  of  good  speaking,  Socrates  claims,  is  that 
the  speaker  must  have  knowledge — he  must  know  the  truth 
of  the  matter  about  which  he  is  going  to  speak.  This 
seems  doubtful  at  first,  for  rhetoric  does  not  deal  with  truth 
but  only  with  the  opinions  of  men.  The  art  of  rhetoric, 
whether  employed  in  public  or  private,  in  regard  to  matters 
great  or  small,  good  or  bad,  is  "a  universal  art  of  enchanting 
the  mind  by  arguments. ' '  It  makes  the  good  appear  evil,  the 
just  unjust,  the  like  unlike,  or  vice  versa,  just  as  the  speaker 
pleases.  Nevertheless,  though  knowledge  of  the  truth  alone 
will  not  give  one  the  art  of  persuasion,  neither  can  that  art  be 

44  Terpsichore  (terp-sik'o-re) :  the  Muse  who  presided  over  choral  song 
and  dancing. 

46  Erato  (er'a-t5) :  the  Muse  who  presided  over  love-poetry. 

48  Calliope  (k51-H'o-pe)  :  the  Muse  of  Epic  poetry  and  eloquence. 

47  Jowett  says  this  refers  to  Urania  (u-ra'ni-a),  the  Muse  of  Astronomy. 


1 64  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

separated  from  such  knowledge.  Even  when  the  object  of  the 
speaker  is  to  deceive  his  hearers,  he  must  depart  from  the  truth 
very  gradually  indeed  or  he  will  be  detected.  He  must  pre- 
sent to  his  audience  something  which  very  nearly  resembles 
the  truth,  for  error  slips  in  through  resemblances.  Now  in 
order  to  know  what  resembles  the  truth,  the  deceiver  must 
know  the  truth  itself.  This  knowledge  of  the  truth  also  ena- 
bles him  to  detect  a  deception  employed  against  himself. 
u  Then  he  who  would  be  a  master  of  the  art  must  know  the 
real  nature  of  everything ;  or  he  will  never  know  either  how 
to  contrive  or  how  to  escape  the  gradual  departure  from  truth 
into  the  opposite  of  truth  which  is  effected  by  the  help  of  re- 
semblances. ' ' 

Socrates  proposes  that  they  use  the  speech  of  Lysias  and 
his  own  about  love  as  illustrations  of  the  art  of  rhetoric. 
Lysias  is  first  criticised  for  not  beginning  with  a  definition  of 
his  subject.  Love  is  a  term  as  to  whose  meaning  we  are  not 
all  agreed,  and  it  should  be  defined  by  a  speaker  in  the  open- 
ing of  his  discourse.  Socrates  began  with  a  definition  of  love, 
but  Lysias  began  with  what  should  have  been  the  end  of  his 
speech.  Socrates'  speeches  are  also  superior  to  that  of  Lysias  in 
respect  to  arrangement.  Lysias  seems  to  have  written  things 
down  just  as  they  came  into  his  head  without  any  regard  to 
arrangement.  "  Every  discourse,"  says  Socrates,  "ought  to 
be  a  living  creature,  having  its  own  body  and  head  and  feet  ; 
there  ought  to  be  a  middle,  beginning,  and  end,  which  are 
in  a  manner  agreeable  to  one  another,  and  to  the  whole. ' ' 
Such  a  vital  connection  does  not  exist  between  the  parts  of 
Lysias'  discourse.  Although  the  myth  which  Socrates  related 
was  only  the  creation  of  fancy,  it  "  involved  two  principles 
which  would  be  charming  if  they  could  be  fixed  by  art."] 

Phcedr.  What  are  they  ? 

Soc.  First,  the  comprehension  of  scattered  particulars  in  one 
idea :  the  speaker  defines  his  several  notions  in  order  that  he 
may  make  his  meaning  clear,  as  in  our  definition  of  love, 
which  whether  true  or  false  certainly  gave  clearness  and  con- 
sistency to  the  discourse. 

Phadr.   What  is  the  other  principle,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  Secondly,  there  is  the  faculty  of  division  according 
to  the  natural  ideas  or  members,  not  breaking  any  part  as  a 


PH^DRUS  165 

bad  carver  might.  But,  as  the  body  may  be  divided  into  a 
left  side  and  into  a  right  side,  having  parts  right  and  left, 
so  in  the  two  discourses  there  was  assumed,  first  of  all, 
the  general  idea  of  unreason,  and  then  one  of  the  two  26!?" 
proceeded  to  divide  the  parts  of  the  left  side  and  did  not 
desist  until  he  found  in  them  an  evil  or  left-handed  love  which 
the  speaker  justly  reviled  ;  and  the  other  leading  us  to  the 
right  portion,  in  which  madness  lay,  found  another  love,  hav- 
ing the  same  name,  but  yet  divine,  which  he  held  up  before 
us  and  applauded  as  the  author  of  the  greatest  benefits. 

Phcedr.  That  is  most  true. 

Soc.  I  am  a  great  lover  of  these  processes  of  division  and 
generalization  ;  they  help  me  to  speak  and  think.  And  if  I 
find  any  man  who  is  able  to  see  unity  and  plurality  in  nature, 
him  I  follow,  and  walk  in  his  steps  as  if  he  were  a  god.  And 
those  who  have  this  art,  I  have  hitherto  been  in  the  habit  of 
calling  dialecticians  ;  but  God  knows  whether  the  name  is 
right  or  not.  And  I  should  like  to  know  what  name  you 
would  give  to  your  or  Lysias'  disciples,  and  whether  this  may 
not  be  that  famous  art  of  rhetoric  which  Thrasymachus  •  and 
others  practice  ?  Skillful  speakers  they  are,  and  impart  their 
skill  to  any  who  will  consent  to  worship  them  as  kings  and  to 
bring  them  gifts. 

Phcedr.  Yes,  they  are  royal  men ;  but  their  art  is  not  the 
same  with  the  art  of  those  whom  you  call,  and  rightly,  in  my 
opinion,  dialecticians. 

[The  rhetorician  does  not  employ  the  "  processes  of  division 
and  generalization"  which  Socrates  praises  in  the  art  of  the 
dialectician.  Instead  of  this,  he  relies  upon  a  great  array  of 
technical  devices  which  are  given  imposing  names  and  the 
rules  for  which  fill  many  books  on  rhetoric.  It  is  true  that 
rhetoric  has  very  great  power  in  public  meetings.  The  ora- 
tor, however,  does  not  acquire  his  power  by  a  study  of  rules, 
as  the  rhetoricians  seem  to  think.  Rules  are  only  the  pre- 
liminaries of  an  art,  and  should  not  be  confused  with  the  art 
itself.] 

Soc.  Suppose  a  person  to  come  to  your  friend  Eryximachus, 
or  to  his  father  Acumenus,49  and  to  say  to  him  :   "  I  know  how 

"See  Rep.,  I.,  note  1.  "See  Protagoras,  note  18. 


1 66  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

to  apply  drugs  which  shall  have  either  a  heating  or  a  cooling 
effect,  and  I  can  give  a  vomit  and  also  a  purge,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing  ;  and  knowing  all  this,  as  I  do,  I  claim  to  be  a 
physician  and  a  teacher  of  physic" — what  do  you  suppose 
that  they  would  say  ? 

Phcedr.  They  would  be  sure  to  ask  him  whether  he  knew 
"  to  whom  "  he  would  give  them,  and  "  when,"  and  "how 
much." 

Soc.  And  suppose  that  he  were  to  reply  :  "  No  ;  I  know 
nothing  of  that ;  I  expect  those  whom  I  have  taught  all  this 
to  do  that  of  themselves. ' ' 

Phcedr.  They  would  reply  that  he  is  a  madman  or  a  pedant 
who  fancies  that  he  is  a  physician,  because  he  has  read  some- 
thing in  a  book,  or  has  stumbled  on  a  few  drugs,  although  he 
has  no  real  understanding  of  the  art  of  medicine. 

Soc.  And  suppose  a  person  were  to  come  to  Sophocles  or 
Euripides  n  and  say  that  he  knows  how  to  make  a  long  speech 
about  a  small  matter,  and  a  short  speech  about  a  great  matter, 
and  also  a  sorrowful  speech,  or  a  terrible,  or  threatening  speech, 
or  any  other  kind  of  speech,  and  in  teaching  this  fancies  that 
he  is  teaching  the  art  of  tragedy  ? 

Phcedr.  They  too  would  surely  laugh  at  him  if  he  fancies 
that  tragedy  is  anything  but  the  arranging  of  these  elements 
in  a  manner  suitable  to  one  another  and  to  the  whole. 

Soc.  But  I  do  not  suppose  that  they  would  be  rude  to  him 
or  revile  him.  Would  they  not  treat  him  as  a  musician  would 
treat  a  man  who  thinks  that  he  is  a  harmonist  because  he 
knows  how  to  pitch  the  highest  and  lowest  note;  happening 
to  meet  such  a  one  he  would  not  say  to  him  savagely,  "  Fool, 
you  are  mad  !  "  O,  no  ;  he  would  rather  say  to  him  in  a  gen- 
tle and  musical  tone  of  voice:  "My  good  friend,  he  who 
would  be  a  harmonist  must  certainly  know  this,  and  yet  he 
may  understand  nothing  of  harmony  if  he  has  not  got  beyond 
your  stage  of  knowledge,  for  you  only  know  the  preliminaries 
of  harmony  and  not  harmonies." 
,  Phcedr.   Very  true. 

Soc.  And  would  not  Sophocles  say  to  the  display  of 
the  would-be  tragedian,  that  this  was  not  tragedy  but  the 
preliminaries   of  tragedy,   and  would   not  Acumenus  say  to 

50 Sophocles  (sofo-klez,  495-405  B.C.),  Euripides  (u-rip'i-dez,  480-406 
B.C.}:  great  Athenian  writers  of  tragedy. 


PH^EDRUS  167 

the  would-be  doctor  that  this  was  not  medicine  but  the  pre- 
liminaries of  medicine  ? 

Phcedr.  Very  true. 

Soc.  And  if  Adrastus 51  the  mellifluous  or  Pericles  52  heard  of 
these  wonderful  arts,  brachylogies  and  eikonologies  M  and  all 
the  hard  names  which  we  have  been  endeavoring  to  draw  into 
the  light  of  day,  what  would  they  say  ?  Instead  of  losing  tem- 
per and  applying  uncomplimentary  epithets,  as  you  and  I  have 
been  doing  to  the  authors  of  such  an  imaginary  art,  their  su- 
perior wisdom  would  rather  censure  us,  as  well  as  them.  Have 
a  little  patience,  Phaedrus  and  Socrates,  they  would  say,  and 
don't  be  angry  with  those  who  from  some  want  of  dialectical 
skill  are  unable  to  define  the  nature  of  rhetoric,  and  conse- 
quently suppose  that  they  have  found  the  art  in  the  prelimi- 
nary conditions  of  the  art,  and  when  they  have  taught  these  to 
others,  fancy  that  they  have  been  teaching  the  whole  art  of 
rhetoric  ;  but  as  to  persuasion  in  detail  and  unity  of  composi- 
tion, that  they  regard  as  an  easy  thing  with  which  their  dis- 
ciples may  supply  themselves. 

Phcedr.  I  quite  admit,  Socrates,  that  the  art  of  rhetoric 
which  these  men  teach  and  of  which  they  write  is  such  as  you 
describe — in  that  I  agree  with  you.  But  I  still  want  to  know 
where  and  how  the  true  art  of  rhetoric  and  persuasion  is  to  be 
acquired. 

Soc.  The  perfection  of  oratory  is,  or  rather  must  be,  like 
the  perfection  of  all  things,  partly  given  by  nature ;  but  this 
is  assisted  by  art,  and  if  you  have  the  natural  power  you  will 
be  famous  as  a  rhetorician,  if  you  only  add  knowledge  and 
practice,  and  in  either  you  may  fall  short.  But  the  art,  as  far 
as  there  is  an  art,  of  rhetoric  does  not  lie  in  the  direction  of 
Tisias 54  or  Thrasymachus. 

Phcedr.   But  in  what  direction  then? 

Soc.  I  should  conceive  that  Pericles  was  the  most  accom- 
plished of  rhetoricians. 

Phcedr.    What  of  that  ? 

Soc.  All  the  higher  arts  require  much  discussion  and  lofty 
contemplation  of  nature ;  this  is  the  source  of  sublimity  and 

51  Adrastus  (a-dras'tus). 

52  See  Protagoras,  note  37. 

63  Brachylogies  :   brevity   in   speech  or  writing.     Eikonology  :  figurative 
speaking. 
54  Tisias  (tfsl-as) :  a  rhetorician. 


1 68  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

perfect  comprehensive  power.  And  this,  as  I  conceive,  was 
the  quality  which,  in  addition  to  his  natural  gifts,  Pericles  ac- 
quired from  his  happening  to  know  Anaxagoras.55  He 
7  was  imbued  with  the  higher  philosophy,  and  attained  the 
knowledge  of  mind  and  matter,  which  was  the  favorite  theme  of 
Anaxagoras,  and  hence  he  drew  what  was  applicable  to  his  art. 

Phcedr.  Explain. 

Soc.  Rhetoric  is  like  medicine. 

Phcedr.   How  is  that? 

Soc.  Why,  because  medicine  has  to  define  the  nature  of  the 
body  and  rhetoric  of  the  soul — if  you  would  proceed,  not  em- 
pirically but  scientifically,  in  the  one  case  to  impart  health 
and  strength  by  giving  medicine  and  food,  in  the  other  to 
implant  the  conviction  which  you  require  by  the  right  use  of 
words  and  principles. 

Phcedr.  You  are  probably  right  in  that. 

[The  physician  must  study  the  body  in  whole  and  part  that 
he  may  understand  its  nature  and  know  how  it  may  be  af- 
fected at  different  times  and  in  different  ways.  Just  so  must 
the  rhetorician  study  the  soul  that  his  efforts  may  be  intel- 
ligent when  he  seeks  to  produce  conviction  in  a  soul.] 

Soc.  Then  clearly,  Thrasymachus  or  any  one  else  who 
7  elaborates  a  system  of  rhetoric  will  give  an  exact  de- 
scription of  the  soul ;  which  he  will  make  to  appear  either  as 
single  and  same,  or,  like  the  body,  multiform.  That  is  what 
we  should  call  showing  the  nature  of  the  soul. 

Phcedr.   Exactly. 

Soc.  He  will  next  proceed  to  speak  of  the  instruments  by 
which  the  soul  acts  or  is  affected  in  any  way. 

Phcedr.  True. 

Soc.  Thirdly,  having  arranged  men  and  speeches,  and  their 
moles  and  affections  in  different  classes,  and  fitted  them  into 
one  another  he  will  point  out  the  connection  between  them — 
he  will  show  why  one  is  naturally  persuaded  by  a  particular 
form  of  argument,  and  another  not. 

55  Anaxagoras  (an-aks-ag'o-ras  500  (?)-420  B.C.)  :a  Greek  philosopher; 
a  friend  of  Pericles;  banished  from  Athens  434  B.C.  on  charge  of  athe- 
ism. He  attempted  to  explain  nature  partly  by  blindly  working  material 
causes,  and  partly  by  the  occasional  intervention  of  mind.  See  Phaedo,  97, 
summary. 


PH^EDRUS  169 

P/uedr.  That  will  certainly  be  a  very  good  way. 

Soc.  Yes,  that  is  the  true  and  only  way  in  which  any  sub- 
ject can  be  set  forth  or  treated  by  rules  of  art,  whether  in 
speaking  or  writing.  But  the  writers  of  the  present  day,  at 
whose  feet  you  have  sat,  improperly  conceal  all  this  about  the 
soul  which  they  know  quite  well.  Nor,  until  they  adopt  our 
method  of  reading  and  writing,  can  we  admit  that  they  write 
by  rules  of  art. 

Phadr.   What  is  our  method  ? 

Soc.  I  cannot  give  you  the  exact  details ;  but  I  should  like 
to  tell  you  generally,  as  far  as  I  can,  how  a  man  ought  to  pro- 
ceed according  to  the  rules  of  art. 

Phozdr.  Let  me  hear. 

Soc.  Oratory  is  the  art  of  enchanting  the  soul,  and  there- 
fore he  who  would  be  an  orator  has  to  learn  the  differences  of 
human  souls — they  are  so  many  and  of  such  a  nature,  and 
from  them  come  the  differences  between  man  and  man — he  will 
then  proceed  to  divide  speeches  into  their  different  classes. 
Such  and  such  persons,  he  will  say,  are  affected  by  this  or  that 
kind  of  speech  in  this  or  that  way,  and  he  will  tell  you  why ; 
he  must  have  a  theoretical  notion  of  them  first,  and  then  he 
must  see  them  in  action,  and  be  able  to  follow  them  with  all 
his  senses  about  him,  or  he  will  never  get  beyond  the  precepts 
of  his  masters.  But  when  he  is  able  to  say  what  persons  are 
persuaded  by  what  arguments,  and  recognize  the  indi- 
vidual about  whom  he  used  to  theorize  as  actually  pres-  272" 
ent  to  him,  and  say  to  himself,  "  This  is  he  and  this  is 
the  sort  of  man  who  ought  to  have  that  argument  applied  to 
him  in  order  to  convince  him  of  this  ;  "  when  he  has  attained 
the  knowledge  of  all  this,  and  knows  also  when  he  should  speak 
and  when  he  should  abstain  from  speaking,  and  when  he 
should  make  use  of  pithy  sayings,  pathetic  appeals,  aggravated 
effects,  and  all  the  other  figures  of  speech  j  when,  I  say,  he 
knows  the  times  and  seasons  of  all  these  things,  then,  and  not 
till  then,  he  is  perfect  and  a  consummate  master  of  his  art ;  but 
if  he  fail  in  any  of  these  points,  whether  in  speaking  or  teach- 
ing or  writing  them,  and  says  that  he  speaks  by  rules  of  art, 
he  who  denies  this  has  the  better  of  him.  Well,  the  teacher 
will  say,  is  this,  Phsedrus  and  Socrates,  your  account  of  the 
art  of  rhetoric,  or  am  I  to  look  for  another  ? 

Phcedr.   He  must  take  this,  Socrates,  for  there  is  no  possi- 


170  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

bility  of  another,  and  yet  the  creation  of  such  an  art  is  not 

easy. 

[Now  some  say  that  this  is  a  long  rough  road  to  the  art  of 
rhetoric,  and  that  there  is  a  shorter  and  easier  one  which 
ought  to  be  followed.  Their  argument  is  like  this  :  Where 
goodness  or  justice  is  the  question  at  issue,  the  rhetorician  has 
no  need  of  truth.  In  the  law  courts,  for  example,  men  care 
nothing  about  truth,  but  only  about  conviction.  Now  con- 
viction is  based  on  probability,  and  facts  ought  to  be  with- 
held. It  is  the  business  of  either  party  to  invent  lies  which  the 
other  cannot  refute.  Therefore  the  orator  should  say  good-by 
to  truth  and  give  his  whole  attention  to  probability.] 

These  and  others  like  them  are  the  precepts  of  the  doctors 
of  the  art.     Am  I  not  right,  Phsedrus? 

Phcedr.   Certainly. 

Soc.  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  this  is  a  wonderfully  myste- 
rious art  which  Tisias  has  discovered,  or  whoever  the  gentleman 
was,  or  whatever  his  name  or  country  may  have  been,  who 
was  the  discoverer.     Shall  we  say  a  word  to  him  or  not  ? 

Phcedr.  What  shall  we  say  to  him  ? 

Soc.  Let  us  tell  him  that,  before  he  appeared,  you  and  I 
were  saying  that  probability  was  engendered  in  the  minds  of 
the  many  by  the  likeness  of  the  truth,  and  were  setting  forth 
that  he  who  knew  the  truth  would  always  know  how  best  to 
discover  the  resemblances  of  the  truth.  If  he  has  anything  fur- 
ther to  say  about  the  art  of  speaking  we  should  like  to  hear 
him  j  but  if  not,  we  are  satisfied  with  our  own  view,  that  unless 
a  man  estimates  the  various  characters  of  his  hearers  and  is 
able  to  divide  existences  into  classes  and  to  sum  them  up  in 
single  ideas,  he  will  never  be  a  skillful  rhetorician  even  within 
the  limits  of  human  power.  And  this  art  he  will  not  attain 
without  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  which  a  good  man  ought  to 
undergo,  not  for  the  sake  of  speaking  and  acting  before  men, 
but  in  order  that  he  may  be  able  to  say  what  is  acceptable  to 
God  and  in  all  things  to  act  acceptably  to  him  as  far  as  in 
him  lies ;  for  there  is  a  saying  of  wiser  men  than  our- 
'  selves,  that  a  man  of  sense  should  not  try  to  please  his 
fellow-servants  (at  least  this  should  not  be  his  principal  ob- 
ject) but  his  good  and  noble  masters,  so  that,  if  the  way  is 


PH.ftDRUS  171 

long  and  circuitous,  marvel  not  at  this ;  for,  where  the  end  is 
great,  there  the  way  may  be  permitted  to  be  long,  but  not  for 
lesser  ends  such  as  yours.  Truly,  the  argument  may  say,  Tis- 
ias,  that  if  you  do  not  mind  going  so  far,  rhetoric  has  a  fair 
beginning  in  this. 

Phcedr.  I  think,  Socrates,  that  this  is  admirable,  if  only 
practicable. 

Soc.  But  even  to  fail  in  an  honorable  object  is  honorable. 

Phcedr.  True. 

Soc.  I  think  that  enough  has  been  said  of  a  true  and  false 
art  of  speaking. 

Phcedr.  Certainly. 

Soc.  But  there  is  something  yet  to  be  said  of  propriety 
and  impropriety  of  writing. 

Phcedr.  Yes. 

Soc.  Do  you  know  how  you  can  speak  or  act  about  rhet- 
oric in  a  manner  which  will  be  acceptable  to  God  ? 

Phcedr.   No,  indeed.     Do  you  ? 

Soc.  I  have  heard  a  tradition  of  antiquity,  whether  true 
or  not,  antiquity  only  knows.  If  we  had  the  truth  ourselves, 
do  you  think  that  we  should  care  much  about  the  opinions  of 
men  ? 

Phcedr.  That  is  a  question  which  needs  no  answer  ;  but  I 
wish  that  you  would  tell  me  what  you  say  that  you  have 
heard. 

Soc.  At  the  Egyptian  city  of  Naucratis,56  there  was  a  famous 
old  god,  whose  name  was  Theuth  57 ;  the  bird  which  is  called 
the  Ibis  was  sacred  to  him,  and  he  was  the  inventor  of  many 
arts,  such  as  arithmetic  and  calculation  and  geometry  and  as- 
tronomy and  draughts  and  dice,  but  his  great  discovery  was 
the  use  of  letters.  Now  in  those  days  Thamus 58  was  the  king 
of  the  whole  of  Upper  Egypt,  which  is  the  district  surround- 
ing that  great  city  which  is  called  by  the  Hellenes  Egyptian 
Thebes,59  and  they  call  the  god  himself  Ammon.  To  him 
came  Theuth  and  showed  his  inventions,  desiring  that  the 
other  Egyptians  might  be  allowed  to  have  the  benefit  of  them  ; 
he  went  through  them,  and  Thamus  inquired  about  their  sev- 

88  Naucratis  (nau-kra'tis) :  a  city  in  the  Delta  of  Egypt,  on  a  branch  of  the 
Nile. 
"Theuth  (thuth). 

88  Thamus  (tha'mus). 

89  Thebes  (thebz)  :  the  ancient  capital  of  Upper  Egypt. 


172  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

eral  uses,  and  praised  some  of  them  and  censured  others,  as  he 
approved  or  disapproved  of  them.  There  would  be  no  use  in 
repeating  all  that  Thamus  said  to  Theuth  in  praise  or  blame 
of  the  various  arts.  But  when  they  came  to  letters,  This,  said 
Theuth,  will  make  the  Egyptians  wiser  and  give  them  better 
memories  ;  for  this  is  the  cure  of  forgetfulness  and  of  folly. 
Thamus  replied  :  O  most  ingenious  Theuth,  he  who  has  the 
gift  of  invention  is  not  always  the  best  judge  of  the  utility  or 
inutility  of  his  own  inventions  to  the  users  of  them. 
JO  And  in  this  instance  a  paternal  love  of  your  own  child 
has  led  you  to  say  what  is  not  the  fact ;  for  this  invention  of 
yours  will  create  forgetfulness  in  the  learners'  souls,  because 
they  will  not  use  their  memories ;  they  will  trust  to  the  exter- 
nal written  characters  and  not  remember  of  themselves.  You 
have  found  a  specific,  not  for  memory  but  for  reminiscence, 
and  you  give  your  disciples  only  the  pretence  of  wisdom  ;  they 
will  be  hearers  of  many  things  and  will  have  learned  nothing ; 
they  will  appear  to  be  omniscient  and  will  generally  know 
nothing ;  they  will  be  tiresome,  having  the  reputation  of 
knowledge  without  the  reality. 

Phcedr.  Yes,  Socrates,  you  can  easily  invent  tales  of 
Egypt,  or  of  any  other  country  that  you  like. 

Soc.  There  was  a  tradition  in  the  temple  of  Dodona w  that 
oaks  first  gave  prophetic  utterances.  The  men  of  that  day, 
unlike  in  their  simplicity  to  young  philosophy,  deemed  that  if 
they  heard  the  truth  even  from  "  oak  or  rock,"  that  was 
enough  for  them  ;  whereas,  you  seem  to  think  not  of  the 
truth  but  of  the  speaker,  and  of  the  country  from  which  the 
truth  comes. 

Phcedr.  I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  your  rebuke;  and  I 
think  that  the  Theban  is  right  in  his  view  about  letters. 

Soc.  He  would  be  a  simple  person,  and  quite  without  un- 
derstanding of  the  oracles  Thamus  and  Amnion,  who  should 
leave  in  writing  or  receive  in  writing  any  art  under  the  idea 
that  the  written  word  would  be  intelligible  or  certain  ;  or 
who  deemed  that  writing  was  at  all  better  than  knowledge 
and  recollection  of  the  same  matters. 

Phcedr.   That  is  most  true. 

60  Dodona  (do-do'na') :  a  city  in  Epirus  (epi'rus),  a  country  of  ancient 
Greece.  Dodona  was  the  seat  of  a  very  ancient  and  celebrated  oracle  of 
the  same  name.     Responses  were  said  to  be  given  in  the  rustling  of  leaves. 


PH7EDRUS  173 

Soc.  I  cannot  help  feeling,  Phaedrus,  that  writing  is  unfort- 
unately like  painting;  for  the  creations  of  the  painter  have  the 
attitude  of  life,  and  yet  if  you  ask  them  a  question  they  pre- 
serve a  solemn  silence.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  speeches. 
You  would  imagine  that  they  had  intelligence,  but  if  you 
want  to  know  anything  and  put  a  question  to  one  of  them,  the 
speaker  always  gives  one  unvarying  answer.  And  when  they 
have  been  once  written  down  they  are  tossed  about  anywhere 
among  those  who  do  and  among  those  who  do  not  understand 
them.  And  they  have  no  reticences  or  proprieties  towards 
different  classes  of  persons  j  and,  if  they  are  unjustly  assailed 
or  abused,  their  parent  is  needed  to  protect  his  offspring,  for 
they  cannot  protect  or  defend  themselves. 

Phcedr.  That  again  is  most  true. 

Soc.  May  we  not  imagine  another  kind  of  writing  or 
speaking  far  better  than  this  is,  and  having  far  greater  power, 
— which  is  one  of  the  same  family,  but  lawfully  begot-  , 
ten?     Let  us  see  what  his  origin  is.  ' 

Phcedr.  Who  is  he,  and  what  do  you  mean  about  his 
origin  ? 

Soc.  I  am  speaking  of  an  intelligent  writing  which  is  graven 
in  the  soul  of  him  who  has  learned,  and  can  defend  itself,  and 
knows  when  to  speak  and  when  to  be  silent. 

Phcedr.  You  mean  the  word  of  knowledge  which  has  a  liv- 
ing soul,  and  of  which  the  written  word  is  properly  no  more 
than  an  image  ? 

Soc.  Yes,  of  course  that  is  what  I  mean.  And  I  wish  that 
you  would  let  me  ask  you  a  question  :  Would  a  husbandman, 
who  is  a  man  of  sense,  take  the  seeds,  which  he  values  and 
which  he  wishes  to  be  fruitful,  and  in  sober  earnest  plant 
them  during  the  heat  of  summer,  in  some  garden  of  Adonis/'1 
that  he  may  rejoice  when  he  sees  them  in  eight  days  appearing 
in  beauty  (at  least  he  does  that,  if  at  all,  only  as  the  show  of  a 
festival)  ;  but  those  about  which  he  is  in  earnest  he  sows  in  fit- 

61  Adonis  (a-do'nis)  :  a  beautiful  youth  greatly  beloved  by  Aphrodite. 
Her  grief  was  so  great  at  his  death  that  he  was  allowed  to  return  to  earth 
and  spend  half  of  every  year  with  her.  His  coming  was  attended  by  the 
springing  up  of  grass  and  flowers,  and  the  singing  ofbirds,  and  was  symbol- 
ical of  the  return  of  vegetation  in  spring  after  six  months  of  hiding  in  the 
ground.  The  Greek  women  celebrated  yearly  a  festival  in  honor  of  AdonK 
and  for  this  occasion  cresses  and  other  such  quick-growing  herbs  were  grow  n 
jn  pots.    (L.  and  S.) 


174  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

ting  soil,  and  practices  husbandry,  and  is  satisfied  if  in  eight 
months  they  arrive  at  perfection  ? 

Phcedr.  Yes,  Socrates,  that  will  be  his  way  when  he  is  in 
earnest ;  he  will  do  the  other,  as  you  say,  only  as  an  amuse- 
ment. 

Soc.  And  can  we  suppose  that  he  who  knows  the  just  and 
good  and  honorable  has  less  understanding  in  reference  to  his 
own  seeds  than  the  husbandman  ? 

Phcedr.   Certainly  not. 

Soc.  Then  he  will  not  seriously  incline  to  write  them  in 
water  with  pen  and  ink,  or  in  dumb  characters  which  have 
not  a  word  to  say  for  themselves  and  cannot  adequately  ex- 
press the  truth  ? 

Phcedr.  No,  that  is  not  likely. 

Soc.  No,  that  is  not  likely, — in  the  garden  of  letters  he  will 
plant  them  only  as  an  amusement,  or  he  will  write  them  down 
as  memorials  against  the  forgetfulness  of  old  age,  to  be  treas- 
ured by  him  and  his  equals  when  they,  like  him,  have  one  foot 
in  the  grave ;  and  he  will  rejoice  in  beholding  their  tender 
growth ;  and  they  will  be  his  pastime  while  others  are  water- 
ing the  garden  of  their  souls  with  banqueting  and  the  like. 

Phcedr.  A  pastime,  Socrates,  as  noble  as  the  other  is  igno- 
ble, when  a  man  is  able  to  pass  time  merrily  in  the  representa- 
tion of  justice  and  the  like. 

Soc.  True,  Phaedrus.  But  nobler  far  is  the  serious  pursuit 
of  the  dialectician,  who  finds  a  congenial  soul,  and  then  with 
knowledge  engrafts  and  sows  words  which  are  able  to  help 
themselves  and  him  who  planted  them,  and  are  not  un- 
fruitful, but  have  in  them  seeds  which  may  bear  fruit  in 
other  natures,  nurtured  in  other  ways, — making  the  seed  ever- 
lasting and  the  possessors  happy  to  the  utmost  extent  of  human 
happiness. 

Phcedr.  Yes,  indeed,  that  is  far  nobler. 

Soc.  And  now,  Phaedrus,  having  agreed  upon  the  premises 
we  may  decide  about  the  conclusion. 

Phcedr.  About  what  conclusion? 

Soc.  About  Lysias,  whom  we  censured,  and  his  art  of  writ- 
ing, and  his  discourses,  and  the  rhetorical  skill  or  want  of  skill 
which  was  shown  in  them;  for  he  brought  us  to  this  point. 
And  I  think  that  we  are  now  pretty  well  informed  about  the 
nature  of  art  and  its  opposite. 


PH^EDRUS  i;5 

Phcedr.  Yes,  I  think  with  you  j  but  I  wish  that  you  would 
repeat  what  was  said. 

Soc.  Until  a  man  knows  the  truth  of  the  several  particulars 
of  which  he  is  writing  or  speaking,  and  is  able  to  define  them 
as  they  are,  and  having  defined  them  again  to  divide  them 
until  they  can  be  no  longer  divided,  and  until  in  like  manner 
he  is  able  to  discern  the  nature  of  the  soul  and  discover  the 
different  modes  of  discourse  which  are  adapted  to  different 
natures,  and  to  arrange  and  dispose  them  in  such  a  way  that 
the  simple  form  of  speech  may  be  addressed  to  the  simpler 
nature,  and  the  complex  and  composite  to  the  complex  nature 
— until  he  has  accomplished  all  this,  he  will  be  unable  to 
handle  arguments  according  to  rules  of  art,  as  far  as  their  nat- 
ure allows  them  to  be  subjected  to  art,  either  for  the  purpose 
of  teaching  or  persuading ;  that  is  the  view  which  is  implied 
in  the  whole  preceding  argument. 

Phcedr.  Yes,  that  was  our  view,  certainly. 

Soc.  Secondly,  as  to  the  justice  of  the  censure  which  was 
passed  on  speaking  or  writing  discourses — did  not  our  pre- 
vious argument  show — 

Phcedr.  Show  what  ? 

Soc.  That  whether  Lysias  or  any  other  writer  that  ever  was 
or  will  be,  whether  private  man  or  statesman,  writes  a  political 
treatise  in  his  capacity  of  legislator,  and  fancies  that  there  is  a 
great  certainty  and  clearness  in  his  performance,  the  fact  of 
his  writing  as  he  does  is  only  a  disgrace  to  him,  whatever  men 
may  say.  For  entire  ignorance  about  the  nature  of  justice  and 
injustice,  and  good  and  evil,  and  the  inability  to  distinguish 
the  dream  from  the  reality,  cannot  in  truth  be  otherwise  than 
disgraceful  to  him,  even  though  he  have  the  applause  of  the 
whole  world. 

Phcedr.   Certainly. 

Soc.  But  he  who  thinks  that  in  the  written  word  there  is 
necessarily  much  which  is  not  serious,  and  that  neither  poetry 
nor  prose,  spoken  or  written,  are  of  any  great  value — if,  g 
like  the  compositions  of  the  rhapsodes,62  they  are  only 
recited  in  order  to  be  believed,  and  not  with  any  view  to 
criticism  or  instruction  ;  and  who  thinks  that  even  the  best  of 
them  are  but  a  reminiscence  of  what  we  know,  and  that  only 

«  A  class  of  wandering  minstrels,  who  earned  their  living  by  reciting  the 
poems  of  Homer  and  other  epics. 


176  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

in  principles  of  justice  and  goodness  and  nobility  taught  and 
communicated  orally  and  written  in  the  soul,  which  is  the  true 
way  of  writing,  is  there  clearness  and  perfection  and  seriousness; 
and  that  such  principles  are  like  legitimate  offspring  ;  being, 
in  the  first  place,  that  which  the  man  finds  in  his  own  bosom ; 
secondly,  the  brethren  and  descendants  and  relations  of  this 
which  has  been  duly  implanted  in  the  souls  of  others  j  and 
who  cares  for  them  and  no  others — this  is  the  right  sort  of 
man;  and  you  and  I,  Phsedrus,  would  pray  that  we  may  be- 
come like  him. 

Phcedr.  That  is  most  assuredly  my  desire  and  prayer. 

Soc.  And  now  the  play  is  played  out;  and  of  rhetoric 
enough.  Go  and  tell  Lysias  that  to  the  fountain  and  school 
of  the  Nymphs  we  went  down,  and  were  bidden  by  them  to 
convey  a  message  to  him  and  to  other  composers  of  speeches 
— to  Homer  and  other  writers  of  poems,  whether  set  to  music 
or  not.  And  to  Solon63  and  the  writers  of  political  docu- 
ments, which  they  term  laws,  we  are  to  say  that  if  their  com- 
positions are  based  on  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  they  can 
defend  or  prove  them,  when  they  are  put  to  the  test,  by  spoken 
arguments,  which  leave  their  writings  poor  in  comparison  of 
them,  then  they  are  not  only  poets,  orators,  legislators,  but 
worthy  of  a  higher  name. 

Phcedr.  What  name  is  that  ? 

Soc.  Wise,  I  may  not  call  them;  for  that  is  a  great  name 
which  belongs  to  God  only, — lovers  of  wisdom  or  philosophers 
is  their  modest  and  befitting  title. 

Phcedr.   Very  good. 

Soc.  And  he  who  cannot  rise  above  his  own  compilations 
and  compositions,  which  he  has  been  long  patching  and  piec- 
ing, adding  some  and  taking  away  some,  may  be  justly  called 
poet  or  speech-maker  or  law-maker. 

Phcedr.  Certainly. 

Soc.   Now  go  and  tell  this  to  your  companion. 

Phcedr.  But  there  is  also  a  friend  of  yours  who  ought  not 
to  be  forgotten. 

Soc.  Who  is  that  ? 

Phcedr.   Isocrates64  the  fair. 

63  Solon  (638-558  B.C.) :  a  celebrated  Athenian  statesman  and  law-giver. 

*4  Isocrates  (i-sok'ra-tez,  436-338  B.C.):  a  Greek  orator  and  teacher  of 
rhetoric.  He  came  under  the  influence  of  Socrates,  but  never  belonged  to 
the  circle  of  his  most  intimate  friends  and  disciples. 


PH/EDRUS  177 

Soc.  What  of  him  ? 

Phcedr.  What  message  shall  we  send  to  him  ? 

Soc.  Isocrates  is  still  young,  Phaedrus;  but  I  am  279 
willing  to  risk  a  prophecy  concerning  him. 

Phcedr.  What  would  you  prophesy  ? 

Soc.  I  think  that  he  has  a  genius  which  soars  above  the 
orations  of  Lysias,  and  he  has  a  character  of  a  finer  mould. 
My  impression  of  him  is  that  he  will  marvelously  improve  as 
he  grows  older,  and  that  all  former  rhetoricians  will  be  as 
children  in  comparison  of  him.  And  I  believe  that  he  will 
not  be  satisfied  with  this,  but  that  some  divine  impulse  will 
lead  him  to  things  higher  still.  For  there  is  an  element  of 
philosophy  in  his  nature.  This  is  the  message  which  comes 
from  the  gods  dwelling  in  this  place,  and  which  I  will  myself 
deliver  to  Isocrates,  who  is  my  delight ;  and  do  you  give  the 
other  to  Lysias,  who  is  yours. 

Phcedr.  I  will ;  and  now  as  the  heat  is  abated  let  us  depart. 

Soc.  Should  we  not  offer  up  a  prayer  first  of  all  to  the  local 
deities  ? 

Phcedr.  By  all  means. 

Soc.  Beloved  Pan,65  and  all  ye  other  gods  who  haunt  thisx 
place,  give  me  beauty  in  the  inward  soul ;  and  may  the  out- 
ward and  inward  man  be  at  one.  May  I  reckon  the  wise  to 
be  the  wealthy,  and  may  I  have  such  a  quantity  of  gold  as 
none  but  the  temperate  can  carry.  Anything  more  ?  That^ 
prayer,  I  think,  is  enough  for  me. 

Phcedr.  Ask  the  same  for  me,  for  friends  should  have  all 
things  in  common. 

Soc.   Let  us  go. 

6:5  Pan  :  god  of  woods  and  fields,  of  flocks  and  shepherds  ;  he  dwelt  in  caves 
or  forests,  and  wandered  over  mountains  and  valleys. 

12 


THE    REPUBLIC 


INTRODUCTION 

/  I.  The  siibifl±afahe  Republic  is  given  in  the  dialogue  as  s^;. 
justice.    Justice,  as  here  used,  may  be  described  quite  gener-        / 
ally  as  the  rightVonduct  of  individual  and  social  life.    The 
conductof  jifejsjieldjobe  determined  by  the_jTatun^of^thf. 
world  in  whicluve  live  and  by  the  nature  of  man. 

II.  We  are  said  to  live  in  two  worlds.    One,  of  these  is  the^-^v, 
world  which  is  eternal,  unchangeable,  absolutely  good,  abso- 
lutely beautiful,  absolutely  one,  in  all  ways  absolutely  per- 
fect.   It  is  called  the/ world  of  being^world  of  essence,  the 

Jreal  world ?the.  one ^hej>ood^the  absolute,  and  other  such 
names.  The  soul  is  said  to  belong  by  its  highest  nature  to 
the  eternal  world,  and  by  pure  reflection  it  may  know  the 
real  world  as  it  is.  This  is  the  only  true  knowledge,  the 
only  true  guide  for  the  conduct  of  individual  and  social  life. 
While  we  are  on  earth  we  are,  through  our  bodies,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  world  of  imperfect  things.  The  knowledge 
which  we  have  of  this  world  through  our  bodily  senses  is 
not' true  knowledge,  and  the  life  of  the  individual  or  state  is 
corrupted  in  so  far  as  it  is  guided  by  such  pseudo-knowledge. 
For  a  further  discussion  of  this  point  see  General  Introduc- 
tion, p.  xxiv.  For  the  several  grades  of  knowledge,  from 
total  ignorance  to  pure  science,  see  especially  V.,  476,  to 
VII.,  521. 

III.  The  Nature  of  Man :  The  life  of  man  is  said  to  have 
three  principles,  (a)  the  appetitive  principle  which  impels  him 

181 


1 82  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

toward  the  satisfaction  of  bodily  desires;  (b)  the  spirited 
principle  which  impels  him  to  fight;  and  (c)  the  rational 
principle  which  tends  to  control  all  his  actions  in  accordance 
with  the  absolute  truth. 

The  virtues  which  the  soul  should  possess  are  accordingly 
as  follows:  (1)  Courage:  "  He  is  deemed  courageous  who, 
having  the  element  of  passion  working  within  him,  preserves 
in  the  midst  of  pain  and  pleasure  the  notion  of  danger  which 
reason  requires.' '  (2)  Wisdom :  "  He  is  wise  who  has  in 
him  that  little  part  which  rules  and  gives  orders,  that  part  be- 
ing suffered  to  have  a  knowledge  of  what  is  for  the  interest 
of  each  and  all  of  the  three  parts."  (3)  Temperance :  "  He 
is  temperate  who  has  these  same  elements  in  friendly  har- 
mony, in  whom  the  one  ruling  principle  of  reason,  and  the 
two  subject  ones  of  spirit  and  desire,  are  equally  agreed  that 
reason  ought  to  rule  and  do  not  rebel."  (4)  Justice  :  Jus- 
tice is  the  perfect  harmony  of  the  other  three  virtues.  "  The 
just  man  does  not  permit  the  several  elements  within  him 
to  interfere  with  one  another  or  any  of  them  to  do  the 
work  of  the  others  ;  but  he  sets  in  order  his  own  inner  life 
and  is  his  own  master  and  at  peace  with  himself;  and  when 
he  has  bound  together  the  three  principles  within  him  which 
may  be  compared  to  the  middle,  higher,  and  lower  divisions 
of  the  scale  and  the  intermediate  intervals, — when  he  has 
bound  together  all  these  and  is  no  longer  many,  but  has  be- 
come one  entirely  temperate  and  perfectly  adjusted  nature,'' 
then  he  will  truly  distinguish  justice  and  injustice,  and  will  act 
accord;ngly.  In  a  word,  Justice  is  health — the  harmonious  or- 
ganic unity  of  all  the  elements  of  man's  life  in  accordance 
with  the  absolute  truth. 

IV.  The  Nature  of  the  State :  The  true  nature  of  the  State 
corresponds  to  the  nature  of  the  individual  man.  There  are 
three  classes  of  persons  in  the  State,  the  laborers,  the  soldiers, 
and  the  statesmen.     The  proper  virtue  for  the  statesmen  is 


INTRODUCTION  1 83 

wisdom ;  for  the  soldiers  courage  ;  for  all  classes  temperance. 
Where  all  classes  have  their  proper  virtues  and  occupations, 
the  State  has  the  virtue  of  justice,  or  perfect  health.  On  III. 
and  IV.  see  Book  IV.  especially  428  to  close. 

V.  Education :  Since  the  State  as  a  whole  and  the  lives  of 
all  the  citizens  can  be  rightly  determined  only  by  the  abso-  \ 
lute  truth,  and  since  the  absolute  truth  or  knowledge  of  the 
eternal  world  is  attained  only  by  the  philosophers,  the  phi- 
losophers alone  are  fit  to  rule  the  State.  A  question  of  pri- 
mary importance  is  therefore  the  selection  and  education  of 
those  who  are  to  become  the  philosopher-statesmen.  Very 
few,  Plato  holds,  are  fit  by  nature  for  this  high  office ;  focJhe 

nprps^ryjwfppfinn   nf  hnHy  flnrl   rrnnH,  especially  the  right 

^mingling  of  gentleness  with  spirit,  are  rarely  found  in  the 
same  individual.  When  fit  children  are  found,  they  should 
be  given  the  education  proper  for  a  guardian,  to  whatever 
class  their  parents  belong. 

The  elementary  education  of  these  children  should  consist 
of  music  and  gymnastics.  With  Plato,  music  includes  poetry, 
and,  in  a  wider  sense,  all  the  arts.  (See  Republic,  II.,  Note 
1 7.)  The  essential  thing  about  the  elementary  education  is 
that  all  things  therein  shall  be  determined  by  the  philosopher 
in  accordance  with  the  absolute  truth.  The  greater  part  of 
the  literature  and  other  art  of  Greece  is  condemned  by  Plato, 
because  its  beauty  is  not  a  beauty  which  is  in  harmony  with 
the  absolute  good. 

At  a  later  stage  (20  years),  the  youth  who  is  preparing 
to  be  a  philosopher-statesman  should  study  the  pure  abstract 
sciences  of  arithmetic,  plane  geometry,  solid  geometry,  as- 
tronomy, and  musical  harmony.  Only  after  this  preparation, 
and  at  the  age  of  thirty,  is  he  fit  to  begin  the  study  of  pure 
philosophy  or  dialectic.  After  pursuing  this  subject  for  five 
years,  he  enters  active  public  life  for  fifteen  years.  After  the 
age  of  fifty  he  returns  to  the  study  of  philosophy  for  the  re- 


1 84  PLATO  THvE  TEACHER 

mainder  of  his  life,  with  occasional  re-entrance  into  active 
life  as  emergencies  may  require.  A  State  governed  by  such 
men  in  accordance  with  absolute  truth  is,  according  to  Plato, 
ideally  good,  and  every  citizen  therein  will  be  better  and  hap- 
pier than  under  any  other  conditions  ;  for  every  citizen  will 
be  doing,  in  obedience  to  the  wise  rulers,  what  he  is  best  fitted 
to  do  for  himself  and  for  others,  and  will  be  receiving  from 
all  others  that  which  is  his  due.  See  II.,  374  to  end  of  III., 
VI.,  VII.,  and  X.,  595  to  608. 

VI.  The  decline  of  the  State :  The  State  will  be  preserved 
as  it  should  be  only  as  long  as  it  is  wholly  guided  by  the  ab- 
solute truth,  through  the  philosophers.  If  men  whose  high- 
est principle  is  love  of  honor,  succeed  those  whose  highest 
principle  is  obedience  to  the  truth,  the  next  generation  will 
likely  put  love  of  money  in  place  of  love  of  honor,  the  next 
will  put  love  of  pleasure  in  place  of  money,  and  presently  all 
virtue  and  health  will  give  place  to  the  wildest  license,  and  $o 
at  last,  to  general  ruin  of  State  and  of  the  people.  / 

The  several  forms  of  government  (to  each  of  which  there 
corresponds  a  certain  kind  of  man)  are  named  and  described 
as  follows:  (1.)  Aristocracy:  Literally,  government  by  the 
best.  With  Plato,  this  meant  government  by  the  philoso- 
phers. (2.)  Timocracy:  Literally,  government  by  honor. 
With  Plato,  this  meant  government  by  those  whose  highest 
principle  is  soldierly  ambition,  and  who  are  ignorant  of  and 
indifferent  to  true  wisdom.  (3.)  Oligarchy  :  Literally,  gov- 
ernment by  the  few.  With  Plato,  this  meant  government  by 
those  whose  highest  virtues  are  those  involved  in  the  acquisi- 
tion of  wealth,  and  who  are  indifferent  to  true  wisdom  and 
to  soldierly  honor.  (4.)  Democracy  :  Literally,  government 
by  the  common  people.  With  Plato,  this  meant  government 
by  the  mob  whose  highest  desire  is  license  regardless  of  true 
wisdom,  honor,  or  the  virtues  that  lead  to  wealth.  (5.)  Tyr- 
anny :  Literally,  government  by  one  absolute  ruler.     With 


INTRODUCTION  1 85 

Plato,  this  meant  government  by  one  man  who  has  absolute 
power  over  his  subjects,  and  who  uses  this  power  solely  for 
his  own  lowest  self-interest,  without  regard  to  wisdom  or 
honor,  and  without  regard  to  the  material  prosperity  or  the 
desires  of  his  people.    See  VIII.  and  IX. 

VII.  Virtue  and  happiness:  As  already  stated,  virtue  is 
health,  the  harmonious  organic  unity  of  all  the  elements  of 
man's  life  in  accordance  with  absolute  truth.  Every  breach 
of  virtue  is  a  breach  of  health.  Vice  is  disease.  Vice  can 
appear  to  be  more  pleasurable  than  virtue  only  for  a  little 
time.  The  wages  of  sin  are  always  quickly  misery  and  ruin. 
The  virtuous  soul,  on  the  contrary,  is  completely  fortified 
against  real  harm  or  unhappiness.  It  is  at  one  with  itself  and 
at  one  with  God.  It  has  the  joy  which  springs  from  perfect 
health,  and  it  has  that  joy  not  only  in  this  life  but  in  that 
which  is  to  come.  See  IV.,  445,  IX.,  576  to  581  and  X.,  608 
to  close. 

Note. — Most  of  the  first  book  of  the  Republic  is  given  up 
to  an  argument  between  Socrates,  Thrasymachus,  and  others, 
in  which  no  conclusions  satisfactory  to  any  one  are  reached. 
Here,  as  in  other  dialogues,  Socrates  sometimes  appears  to  be 
as  sophistical  as  his  opponents.  This  part  of  the  Republic  is 
probably  to  be  regarded  as  a  dramatic  portrayal  of  the  way 
in  which  the  Sophists  dealt  with  questions.  The  serious  con- 
sideration of  justice  in  the  individual  and  State  begins  with 
the  second  book. 


PERSONS   OF  THE  DIALOGUE.* 

Socrates,  who  is  the  narrator.  Cephalus. 

Glaucon.  Thrasymachus. 

Adeimantus.  Cleitophon. 

polemarchus. 

And  others  who  are  mute  auditors. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  the  house  of  Cephalus  at  the  Piraeus  ;  and  the  whole 
discourse  is  narrated  the  day  after  it  actually  took  place  to  Timaeus, 
Hermocrates,  Critias,aand  a  nameless  person,  who  all  reappear  in  the 
Timaeus. 

I  went  down  to  the  Piraeus 3  yesterday  with  Glaucon  the 
son  of  Ariston,  that  I  might  offer  up  a  prayer  to  the  goddess ; 
and  also  because  I  wanted  to  see  in  what  manner  they  would 

1  Glaucon  (glau'kon) :  brother  of  Plato.  He  is  said  to  have  written  a  num- 
ber of  dialogues,  but  none  are  extant. 

Adeimantus  (ad'i-man'tus)  :  brother  of  Plato  ;  mentioned  in  Apology,  34  ; 
little  is  known  of  him  beyond  the  representation  in  this  dialogue. 

Polemarchus  (pol'e-mar'kus)  :  son  of  Cephalus,  and  brother  of  Lysias, 
the  orator.  The  brothers  owned  a  shield  factory  and  amassed  great  wealth, 
on  account  of  which  they  were  seized  by  the  Thirty  Tyrants.  Lysias  escaped, 
but  Polemarchus  was  forced,  without  trial,  to  drink  the  hemlock. 

Cephalus  (sefa-lus)  :  a  resident  alien  from  Syracuse.  "  We  are  to  think 
of  Cephalus,  not  as  the  Athenian  aristocrat,  but,  rather  as  the  cultivated 
manufacturer  or  merchant  prince,  residing,  no  doubt,  in  a  good  house,  but 
in  a  commercial  or  industrial  quarter.  He  accepted,  we  are  told,  the  bur- 
dens of  an  Athenian  citizen,  and  lived  for  thirty  years,  unharming  and  un- 
harmed, under  the  popular  government." — Bosanquet. 

Thrasymachus  (thra-sym'a-kus) :  a  native  of  Chalcedon  (kal-se'don),  a 
Greek  city  on  the  Bosphorus.  He  was  a  Sophist,  and  a  famous  teacher  of 
rhetoric.     He  is  mentioned  in  the  Phaedrus. 

Cleitophon  (kli'to-fon) :  son  of  Aristonymus  (arTs-t<5n'y-mus) ;  not  men- 
tioned elsewhere  by  Plato. 

2  Timaeus  (ti-me'us).      Hermocrates  (her-m5k'ra-tez).      Critias   (krit'i-as). 

3  Piraeus  (pi-re'us) :  the  most  important  of  the  harbors  of  Athens,  situated 
about  five  miles  southwest  of  Athens,  and  connected  with  that  city  by  the 
Long  Walls.     Many  foreigners  resided  there. 

187 


1 88  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

celebrate  the  festival  of  Bendis,4  which  was  a  new  thing.    I 

was  delighted  with  the  procession  of  the  inhabitants;  this, 

however,  was  equalled  or  even  exceeded  in  beauty  by 

?P  *  that  of  the  Thracians.  When  we  had  finished  our 
prayers  and  the  spectacle  was  over,  we  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  city  ;  and  at  that  instant,  Polemarchus  the  son 
of  Cephalus,  who  had  caught  sight  of  us  at  a  distance  as  we 
were  departing  homewards,  told  his  servant  to  run  and  bid  us 
wait  for  him.  .  The  servant  took  hold  of  me  by  the  cloak 
behind,  and  said  :   Polemarchus  desires  you  to  wait. 

I  turned  round,  and  asked  him  where  his  master  was. 

He  is  coming,  said  the  youth,  if  you  will  only  wait. 

Certainly  we  will,  said  Glaucon ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  Pole- 
marchus appeared,  and  with  him  Adeimantus,  Glaucon 's 
brother,  Niceratus  the  son  of  Nicias,5  and  several  others  who 
had  been  at  the  procession. 

Polemarchus  said  to  me  :  I  perceive,  Socrates,  that  you  and 
your  companion  are  already  on  your  way  to  the  city. 

That  is  a  good  guess,  I  said. 

But  do  you  see,  he  said,  how  many  we  are  ? 

I  do. 

And  are  you  stronger  than  all  these?  for  if  not,  you  will 
have  to  remain  where  you  are. 

May  there  not  be  yet  another  possibility,  I  said,  that  we  may 
persuade  you  to  let  us  go  ? 

But  can  you  persuade  us,  if  we  refuse  to  listen  to  you  ?  he 
said. 

No  indeed,  replied  Glaucon. 

Then  we  are  not  going  to  listen ;  of  that  you  may  be  as- 
sured. 

Adeimantus  added  :  Has  no  one  told  you  that  there  is  to 
be  an  equestrian  torch-race  in  the  evening  in  honor  of  the 

8    goddess? 

Indeed,  that  is  a  novelty,  I  replied.     Will  the  horsemen 
carry  torches  and  pass  them  to  one  another  during  the  race  ? 

4  Bendis  (ben'dis)  :  a  Thracian  goddess,  sometimes  identified  with  the  Greek 
Artemis,  goddess  of  the  moon  and  the  chase.  The  worship  of  Bendis  was 
introduced  into  this  part  of  Greece  by  Thracian  aliens,  residing  at  the 
Piraeus.  The  public  festival,  the  Bendideia  (ben'di-dl'a),  instituted  in 
honor  of  Bendis,  was  celebrated  for  the  first  time  upon  the  occasion  to 
which  Socrates  here  refers. 

6  Niceratus  (ni-ser'a-tus).     Nicias  (nis'i-as). 


THE  REPUBLIC  1 89 

Yes,  he  said  ;  and  there  will  also  be  a  festival  at  night 
which  is  well  worth  seeing.  If  we  rise  from  supper  in  good 
time  we  shall  see  this,  and  we  shall  find  youths  enough  there 
with  whom  we  may  discourse.  Stay  then,  and  do  not  be  per- 
verse. 

Glaucon  said  :  I  suppose  that  we  must  stay. 

Well,  as  you  please,  I  replied. 

Accordingly  we  went  with  Polemarchus  to  his  house ;  and 
there  we  found  his  brothers  Lysias 6  and  Euthydemus,7  and  with 
them  Thrasymachus  the  Chalcedonian,  Charmantides  the  Pae- 
anian,8  and  Cleitophon  the  son  of  Aristonymus,  There  too 
was  their  father  Cephalus,  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  a  long 
time,  and  I  thought  him  very  much  aged.  He  was  seated  on 
a  cushioned  chair,  and  had  a  garland  on  his  head,  for  he  had 
been  holding  a  sacrifice 9  in  the  court ;  and  we  sat  down  by 
him  on  other  chairs,  which  were  arranged  in  a  circle  around 
him.     He  welcomed  me  eagerly,  and  then  he  said  :  — 

You  don't  come  to  see  me,  Socrates,  as  often  as  you  ought. 
For  if  I  were  able  to  go  to  you  I  would  not  ask  you  to  come 
to  me.  But  at  my  age  I  can  hardly  get  to  the  city,  and 
therefore  you  ought  to  come  oftener  to  the  Piraeus.  For,  in- 
deed, I  find  that  at  my  time  of  life,  as  the  pleasures  and  de- 
lights of  the  body  fade  away,  the  love  of  discourse  grows  upon 
me.  I  only  wish  therefore  that  you  would  come  oftener,  and 
be  with  your  young  friends  here,  and  make  yourself  altogether 
at  home  with  us. 

I  replied  :  There  is  nothing  which  I  like  better,  Cephalus, 
than  conversing  with  aged  men  like  yourself;  for  I  regard 
them  as  travellers  who  have  gone  a  journey  which  I  too 
may  have  to  go,  and  of  whom  I  ought  to  inquire,  whether  the 
way  is  smooth  and  easy,  or  rugged  and  difficult.  And  this  is 
a  question  which  I  should  like  to  ask  of  you  who  have  arrived 
at  that  time  which  the  poets  call  the  "  threshold  of  old  age," 
— Is  life  harder  towards  the  end,  or  what  report  do  you  give  V/v^, 
of  it? 

I  will  tell  you,  Socrates,  he  said,  what  my  own  feeling  is. 
Old  men  flock  together ;  they  are  birds  of  a  feather,  as  the 

8  See  Phoedrus,  note  3. 

7  Euthydemus,  not  the  one  for  whom  the  dialogue  Euthydemus  is  named. 

8  Charmantides  (kar-man'tf-dez).     Peeania  (pe-a'nl-a) :   a  deme  of  Attica. 

9  Probably  an  act  of  private  worship.  It  was  customary  among  the 
Greeks  for  one  who  took  part  in  sacrifice  to  wear  a  wreath. 


19O  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

proverb  says ;  and  at  our  meetings  the  tale  of  my  acquaint- 
ance commonly  is — I  cannot  eat,  I  cannot  drink;  the  pleasures 
of  youth  and  love  are  fled  away:  there  was  a  good 
329  time  once,  but  that  is  gone,  and  now  life  is  no  longer 
life.  Some  of  them  lament  over  the  slights  which  are  put 
upon  them  by  their  relations,  and  then  they  tell  you  plaintively 
of  how  many  evils  old  age  is  the  cause.  But  I  do  not  believe, 
Socrates,  that  the  blame  is  where  they  say ;  for  if  old  age 
were  the  cause,  I  too  being  old,  and  every  other  old  man, 
would  have  felt  the  same.  This,  however,  is  not  my  own  ex- 
perience, nor  that  of  others  whom  I  have  known.  How  well 
I  remember  the  aged  poet  Sophocles,10  when  in  answer  to  the 
question,  How  does  love  suit  with  age,  Sophocles, — are 
you  still  the  man  you  were  ?  Peace,  he  replied  ;  most  gladly 
have  I  escaped  that,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  had  escaped  from  a  mad 
and  furious  master.  That  saying  of  his  has  often  come  into 
my  mind  since,  and  seems  to  me  still  as  good  as  at  the  time 
when  I  heard  him.  For  certainly  old  age  has  a  great  sense  of 
calm  and  freedom ;  when  the  passions  relax  their  hold,  then, 
as  Sophocles  says,  you  have  escaped  from  the  control  not  of 
one  master  only,  but  of  many.  And  of  these  regrets,  as  well 
as  of  the  complaint  about  relations,  Socrates,  the  cause  is  to 
be  sought,  not  in  men's  ages,  but  in  their  characters  and  tem- 
pers ;  for  he  who  is  of  a  calm  and  happy  nature  will  hardly 
feel  the  pressure  of  age,  but  he  who  is  of  an  opposite  disposi- 
tion will  find  youth  and  age  equally  a  burden. 

I  was  delighted  at  his  words,  and  wanting  to  draw  him  out 
I  went  on  to  say :  Yes,  Cephalus ;  but  I  suspect  that  people 
in  general  do  not  believe  you  when  you  say  this;  they  think 
that  old  age  sits  lightly  upon  you,  not  because  of  your  happy 
disposition,  but  because  you  are  rich,  and  wealth  is  well  known 
to  be  a  great  comforter. 

That  is  true,  he  replied  ;  they  do  not  believe  me :  and  there 
is  something  in  what  they  say;  not,  however,  so  much  as 
they  imagine.  I  might  answer  them  as  Themistocles  u 
answered  the  Seriphian 12  who  was  abusing  him  and  say- 
ing that  he  was  famous,  not  for  his  own  merits   but  because 

10  See  Phsedrus,  note  50. 

11  Themistocles  (the-mfs'to-klez,  514  ? — B.C.):  a  great  Athenian  statesman. 

12  Seriphos  (se-ri'fos)  :  a  small  island  in  the  y£gean  Sea,  colonized  by 
Greeks, 


THE  REPUBLIC  191 

he  was  an  Athenian  :  "If  you  had  been  an  Athenian  and  I  a 
Seriphian,  neither  of  us  would  have  been  famous."  And  to 
those  who  are  not  rich  and  are  impatient  of  old  age,  the  same 
reply  may  be  made  ;  for  neither  can  a  good  pojbr  man  lightly 
bear  age,  nor  can  a  bad  rich  man  ever  be  at  peace  with  him- 
self. 

May  I  ask,  Cephalus,  whether  you  inherited  or  acquired  the 
greater  part  of  your  wealth  ? 

How  much  did  I  acquire,  Socrates?  he  replied, — is  that 
your  question?  Well,  the  property  which  Cephalus,  my  grand- 
father, originally  inherited  was  nearly  of  the  same  value  as  my 
own  is  at  present  j  this  he  doubled  and  trebled,  but  my  father 
Lysanias  reduced  below  the  original  amount ;  and  I,  who  am 
neither  a  spender  of  money  like  the  one,  nor  a  gainer  of 
money  like  the  other,  shall  be  satisfied  if  I  leave  my  sons  a 
little  more  than  I  received. 

That  was  why  I  asked  you  the  question,  I  said,  because  I 
saw  that  you  were  not  fond  of  money,  which  is  a  characteris- 
tic rather  of  those  who  have  inherited  their  fortunes  than  of 
those  who  have  acquired  them ;  for  the  latter  have  a  second 
or  extraordinary  love  of  money  as  a  creation  of  their  own, 
resembling  the  affection  of  authors  for  their  own  poems, 
or  of  parents  for  their  children,  besides  that  other  love  of 
money  for  the  sake  of  use  and  enjoyment  which  is  common 
to  them  and  all  men.  And  hence  they  are  very  bad  company, 
for  they  talk  about  nothing  but  the  praises  of  wealth. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

Yes,  that  is  very  true,  I  said ;  but  may  I  ask  you  one  more 
question  ?  which  is  this — What  do  you  consider  to  be  the^"^/^ 
greatest  blessing  which  you  have  reaped  from  wealth  ? 

Not  one,  he  said,  of  which  I  could  easily  convince  others. 
For  let  me  tell  you,  Socrates,  that  when  a  man  thinks  himself 
to  be  near  death  he  has  fears  and  cares  which  never  en- 
tered into  his  mind  before  ;  the  tales  of  a  life  below  and  Z 
the  punishment  which  is  exacted  there  of  deeds  done  here 
were  a  laughing  matter  to  him  once,  but  now  he  is  haunted 
with  the  thought  that  they  may  be  true :  either  because  of 
the  feebleness  of  age,  or  from  the  nearness  of  the  prospect,  he 
seems  to  have  a  clearer  view  of  the  other  world ;  suspicions  and 
alarms  crowd  upon  him,  and  he  begins  to  reckon  up  in  his 
own  mind  what  wrongs  he  has  done  to  others.     And  when  he 


192  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

finds-  that  the  sum  of  his  transgressions  is  great,  he  will  many 
a  time  like  a  child,  start  up  in  his  sleep  for  fear,  and  he  is  filled 
with  dark  forebodings.  But  he  who  is  conscious  of  no  sin 
has  in  age  a  sweet  hope  which,  as  Pindar  13  charmingly  says, 
is  a  kind  nurse  to  him. 

"  Hope,"  as  he  says,  "cherishes  the  soul  of  him  who  lives  in  holiness 
and  righteousness,  and  is  the  nurse  of  his  age  and  the  companion  of  his 
journey — hope,  which  is  mightiest  to  sway  the  eager  soul  of  man." 

That  is  an  expression  of  his  which  wonderfully  delights  me. 
And  this  is  the  great  blessing  of  riches,  I  do  not  say  to  every 
man,  but  to  a  good  man,  that  he  has  had  no  occasion  to  de- 
ceive another,  either  intentionally  or  unintentionally  ;  and 
when  he  departs  to  the  other  world  he  is  not  in  any  apprehen- 
sion about  offerings  due  to  the  gods  or  debts  which  he  owes 
to  men.  Now  the  possession  of  wealth  has  a  great  deal  to  do 
with  this;  and  therefore  I  say  that,  setting  one  thing  against 
another,  this,  in  my  opinion,  is  to  a  man  of  sense  the  greatest 
of  the  many  advantages  which  wealth  has  to.  give. 

That  is  excellent,  Cephalus,  I  replied ;  but  then  is  justice 
no  more  than  this — to  speak  the  truth  and  pay  your  debts  ? 
And  are  there  not  exceptions  even  to  this?  If  I  have  received 
arms  from  a  friend  when  in  his  right  mind,  and  he  asks  for 
them  when  he  is  not  in  his  right  mind,  ought  I  to  give 
them  back  to  him?  No  one  would  say  that  I  ought,  any 
more  than  they  would  say  that  I  ought  always  to  speak  the 
truth  to  one  who  is  in  that  condition. 

You  are  quite  right,  he  replied. 

But  then,  I  said,  speaking  the  truth  and  paying  your  debts 
is  not  a  correct  definition  of  justice. 

And  yet,  said  Polemarchus,  that  is  the  definition  which  has 
the  authority  of  Simonides.14 

I  fear,  said  Cephalus,  that  I  must  look  to  the  sacrifices  ;  and 
therefore  I  now  take  leave  of  this  argument,  which  I  bequeath 
to  you  and  Polemarchus. 

Is  not  Polemarchus  your  heir  ?  I  said. 

To  be  sure,  he  answered,  and  went  away  laughing  to  the 
sacrifices. 

13  See  Euthydemus,  note  22. 

14  See  Protagoras,  note  26.  The  authority  of  the  greater  poets  was  re- 
vered almost  as  we  revere  that  of  the  Bible. 


THE  REPUBLIC  193 

[Socrates  and  Polemarchus  enter  into  a  discussion  of  the 
definition  of  justice.       They   examine   the    view  mentioned 
above  that  justice  consists  in  speaking  the  truth  and  paying  - ,'  •  lf% 
one's  debts.     They  finally  agree  that  this  definition  is  un- 
satisfactory and  cannot  be  the  true  one.] 

Several  times  in  the  middle  of  our  discourse  Thrasymachus 
had  made  an  attempt  to  get  the  argument  into  his  own  hands 
by  interrupting  us,  and  had  been  put  down  by  the  rest  of  the 
company,  who  wanted  to  hear  the  end.  But  when  I  had  done 
speaking  and  there  was  a  pause,  he  could  no  longer  hold  his 
peace ;  and,  gathering  himself  up,  he  came  at  us  like  a  wild 
beast  seeking  to  devour  us,  and  Polemarchus  and  I  quaked 
with  fear. 

What  folly  has  possessed  you,  Socrates  ?  he  said,  with  a  roar. 
Why  do  you  drop  down  at  one  another's  feet  in  this  silly 
way  ?  I  say  that  if  you  want  to  know  what  justice  really  is, 
you  should  answer  and  not  ask,  and  you  shouldn't  pride  your- 
self in  refuting  others,  but  have  your  own  answer ;  for  there 
is  many  a  one  who  can  ask  and  cannot  answer.  And  don't 
tell  me  that  justice  is  duty  or  advantage  or  profit  or  gain  or 
interest,  for  that  sort  of  watery  stuff  won't  do  for  me ;  I  must 
and  will  have  a  precise  answer. 

I  was  panic-stricken  at  these  words,  and  trembled  at  the 
very  look  of  him  ;  and  I  verily  believe  that  if  I  had  not 
caught  his  eye  first,  I  should  have  been  deprived  of  utterance  : 
but  now,  when  I  saw  his  fury  rising,  I  had  the  presence  of 
mind  to  keep  my  eye  upon  him,  and  this  enabled  me  to  reply 
to  him. 

Thrasymachus,  I  said,  with  a  quiver,  have  mercy  on  us. 
Our  error,  if  we  were  guilty  of  any  error,  was  certainly  unin- 
tentional ;  and  therefore  you,  in  your  wisdom,  should  have 
pity  upon  us,  and  not  be  angry  with  us.  If  we  were  seeking 
for  gold,  you  would  not  imagine  that  we  were  pretending  only, 
or  dropping  down,  as  you  say,  out  of  foolish  complaisance,  at 
one  another's  feet.  Do  not  imagine,  then,  that  we  are  pre- 
tending to  seek  for  justice,  which  is  a  treasure  far  more  pre- 
cious than  gold. 

How  characteristic  of  Socrates  !  he  replied,  with  a 
bitter  laugh  ;  that's  your  ironical  way  !     Did  I  not  foresee — 
did  I  not  tell  you  all  that  he  would  refuse  to  answer,  and  try 
13 


194  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

irony  or  any  other  shift  in  order  that  he  might  avoid  answer- 
ing? 

You  are  a  philosopher,  Thrasymachus,  I  replied,  and  well 
know  that  if  you  ask  what  numbers  make  up  twelve,  taking 
care  to  prohibit  the  person  whom  you  ask  from  answering 
twice  six,  or  three  times  four,  or  six  times  two,  or  four  times 
three,  "  for  this  sort  of  nonsense  won't  do  for  me,"  then 
obviously,  if  that  is  your  way  of  putting  the  question  to  him, 
neither  he  nor  any  one  can  answer.  And  suppose  he  were 
to  say,  "  Thrasymachus,  what  do  you  mean  ?  And  if  the  true 
answer  to  the  question  is  one  of  these  numbers  which  you  in- 
terdict, am  I  to  say  some  other  number  which  is  not  the  right 
one? — is  that  your  meaning?"  How  would  you  answer 
him? 

Yes,  said  he  ;  but  how  remarkably  parallel  the  two  cases 
are  ! 

Very  likely  they  are,  I  replied ;  but  even  if  they  are  not, 
and  only  appear  to  be  parallel  to  the  person  who  is  asked,  can 
he  to  whom  the  question  is  put  avoid  saying  what  he  thinks, 
even  though  you  and  I  join  in  forbidding  him  ? 

Well,  then,  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  make  one  of  the  in- 
terdicted answers? 

I  dare  say  that  I  may,  notwithstanding  the  danger,  if  upon 
reflection  I  approve  of  any  of  them. 

But  what  if  I  give  you  a  new  and  better  answer,  he  said, 
than  any  of  these  ?  What  do  you  deserve  to  have  done  to 
you? 

Done  to  me  !  I  can  but  suffer  the  penalty  of  ignorance  ; 
and  the  penalty  is  to  learn  from  the  wise — and  that  is  what  I 
deserve  to  have  done  to  me. 

What,  and  no  payment !   that's  a  pleasant  notion ! 

I  will  pay  when  I  have  the  money,  I  replied. 

But  you  have,  Socrates,  said  Glaucon  ;  and  you,  Thrasym- 
achus, need  be  under  no  anxiety  about  money,  for  we  will  all 
make  a  contribution  for  Socrates. 

Yes,  he  replied,  and  I  know  what  will  happen ;  Socrates 
will  do  as  he  always  does — not  answer,  but  take  and  pull  the 
argument  to  pieces. 

Why,  my  good  friend,  I  said,  how  can  any  one  answer  who 
knows,  and  says  that  he  knows,  just  nothing;  and  who,  even 
if  he  had  some  faint  notions  of  his  own,  is  told  by  a  man  of 


THE   REPUBLIC  195 

authority  not  to  utter  them  ?  The  natural  thing  is,  that  the 
speaker  should  be  one  who  knows,  like  yourself ;  and  I  must 
earnestly  request  that  you  will  kindly  answer  for  the  338- 
edification  of  the  company  and  of  myself.  343 

Glaucon  and  the  rest  of  the  company  joined  in  my  request, 
and  Thrasymachus,  as  any  one  might  see,  was  really  eager  to 
speak  ;  for  he  thought  that  he  had  an  excellent  answer,  and 
would  distinguish  himself.  But  at  first  he  affected  to  in- 
sist on  my  answering;  at  length  he  consented  to  begin.  Be- 
hold, he  said,  the  wisdom  of  Socrates ;  he  refuses  to  teach 
himself,  and  goes  about  learning  of  others,  to  whom  he  never 
even  says  Thank  you. 

That  I  learn  of  others,  I  replied,  is  quite  true ;  but  that  I 
am  ungrateful  I  wholly  deny.  Money  I  have  none,  and  there- 
fore I  pay  in  praise,  which  is  all  I  have ;  and  how  ready  I  am 
to  praise  any  one  who  speaks  well  you  will  very  soon  find  out 
when  you  answer,  for  I  expect  that  you  will  answer  well. 

Listen,  then,  he  said  ;  I  proclaim  that  might  is  right,  jus- 
tice the  interest  of  the  stronger.  But  why  don't  you  praise 
me  ? 

Let  me  first  understand  you,  I  replied. 

[Socrates  now  puts  a  series  of  questions  to  Thrasymachus, 
and  in  answering  Thrasymachus  is  led  to  admit  statements 
which  contradict  his  own  definition  of  justice.  When  he 
finds  himself  cornered  in  the  argument,  he  tries  to  escape 
by  means  of  a  long  speech  upon  the  advantages  of  injustice, 
as  follows  :] 

You  fancy  that  the  shepherd  or  neatherd  fattens  or  tends 
the  sheep  or  oxen  with  a  view  to  their  own  good  and  not  to 
the  good  of  himself  or  his  master;  and  you  further  imagine 
that  the  rulers  of  States,  who  are  true  rulers,  never  think  of 
their  subjects  as  sheep,  and  that  they  are  not  studying  their 
own  advantage  day  and  night.  O,  no  ;  and  so  entirely  astray 
are  you  in  the  very  rudiments  of  justice  and  injustice  as  not 
even  to  know  that  justice  and  the  just  are  in  reality  another's 
good  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  interest  of  the  ruler  and  stronger,  and 
the  loss  of  the  subject  and  servant ;  whereas  the  reverse  holds 
in  the  case  of  injustice ;  for  the  unjust  is  lord  over  the  truly 
simple  and  just :  he  is  the  stronger,  and  his  subjects  do  what 


I96  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

is  for  his  benefit,  and  minister  to  his  happiness,  which  is  very- 
far  from  being  their  own.  Consider  further,  most  foolish 
Socrates,  that  the  just  is  always  a  loser  in  comparison  with  the 
unjust.  First  of  all  in  their  private  dealings:  wherever  the 
unjust  is  the  partner  of  the  just  the  conclusion  of  the  affair  al- 
ways is  that  the  unjust  man  has  more  and  the  just  less.  Next, 
in  their  dealings  with  the  State  :  when  there  is  an  income-tax, 
the  just  man  will  pay  more  and  the  unjust  less  on  the  same 
amount  of  income  ;  and  when  there  is  anything  to  be  received 
the  one  gains  nothing  and  the  other  much.  Observe  also 
that  when  they  come  into  office,  there  is  the  just  man  neglect- 
ing his  affairs  and  perhaps  suffering  other  losses,  but  he  will 
not  compensate  himself  out  of  the  public  purse  because  he  is 
just ;  moreover  he  is  hated  by  his  friends  and  relations  for 
refusing  to  serve  them  in  unlawful  ways.  Now  all  this  is  re- 
versed in  the  case  of  the  unjust  man.  I  am  speaking  of  in- 
justice on  a  large  scale  in  which  the  advantage  of  the  unjust  is 
most  apparent,  and  my  meaning  will  be  most  clearly 
seen  in  that  highest  form  of  injustice  the  perpetrator  of 
which  is  the  happiest  of  men,  as  the  sufferers  or  those  who  re- 
fuse to  do  injustice  are  the  most  miserable — I  mean  tyranny, 
which  by  fraud  and  force  takes  away  the  property  of  others, 
not  retail  but  wholesale  ;  comprehending  in  one,  things  sacred 
as  well  as  profane,  private  and  public ;  for  any  one  of  which 
acts  of  wrong,  if  he  were  detected  perpetrating  them  singly, 
he  would  be  punished  and  incur  great  dishonor ;  for  they 
who  are  guilty  of  any  of  these  crimes  in  single  instances  are 
called  robbers  of  temples  and  man -stealers  and  burglars  and 
swindlers  and  thieves.  But  when  a  man  has  taken  away  the 
money  of  the  citizens  and  made  slaves  of  them,  then,  instead 
of  these  dishonorable  names,  he  is  called  happy  and  blessed, 
not  only  by  the  citizens  but  by  all  who  hear  of  his  having 
achieved  the  consummation  of  injustice.  For  injustice  is  cen- 
sured because  the  censurers  are  afraid  of  suffering,  and  not 
from  any  fear  which  they  have  of  doing  injustice.  And  thus, 
as  I  have  shown,  Socrates,  injustice,  when  on  a  sufficient  scale, 
has  more  strength  and  freedom  and  mastery  than  justice  ; 
and,  as  I  said  at  first,  justice  is  the  interest  of  the  stronger, 
whereas  injustice  is  a  man's  own  profit  and  interest. 

Thrasymachus,  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  having,  like  a 
bath-man,  deluged  our  ears  with  his  words,  had  a  mind  to  go 


THE   REPUBLIC  197 

away.  But  the  company  would  not  allow  this,  and  they  com- 
pelled him  to  remain  and  defend  his  position ;  and  I  myself 
added  my  own  humble  request  that  he  would  not  leave  us. 
Thrasymachus,  I  said  to  him,  excellent  man,  how  suggestive 
are  your  words  !  And  are  you  going  away  before  you  have 
fairly  taught  or  learned  whether  they  are  true  or  not  ?  Is  the 
attempt  to  determine  the  way  of  man's  life  such  a  small  mat- 
ter in  your  eyes — the  attempt  to  determine  the  way  in  which 
life  may  be  passed  by  one  of  us  to  the  greatest  advantage  ? 

My  reason  is  that  I  do  not  agree  with  you,  he  replied. 

I  should  rather  think,  Thrasymachus,  that  you  have  no  feel- 
ing about  us,  I  said ;  you  don't  seem  to  care  whether  we  live 
better  or  worse  from  not  knowing  what  you  say  you  know. 
Prithee,  friend,  be  obliging  and  impart  your  wisdom  to  us ; 
any  benefit  which  is  conferred  on  a  large  party  such  as  this  is 
will  not  be  unrewarded.  For  my  own  part  I  frankly  ad- 
mit that  I  am  not  convinced,  and  that  I  do  not  believe  3^5- 
injustice  to  be  more  gainful  than  justice,  even  if  uncon- 
trolled and  allowed  to  have  free  play.  For,  granting  that 
there  may  be  an  unjust  man  who  is  able  to  commit  injus- 
tice either  by  fraud  or  force,  still  this  does  not  convince  me 
of  the  superior  advantage  of  injustice,  and  there  may  be  others 
who  are  in  the  same  predicament  as  myself.  Perhaps  we  may 
be  wrong  ;  if  so,  you  should  convince  us  that  we  are  mistaken 
in  preferring  justice  to  injustice. 

[In  the  discussion  which  follows,  Thrasymachus  again  finds 
himself  caught  in  the  net  of  Socrates'  questions  and  his  argu- 
ment refuted.  But  they  arrive  at  no  conclusion  satisfactory 
to  Socrates  for  they  have  not  yet  defined  justice.  At  the  close 
of  the  discussion  Thrasymachus  says  :] 

Let  this,  Socrates,  be  your  entertainment  at  the  Bendidea. 

And  for  this  I  am  indebted  to  you,  I  said,  now  that  you 
have  grown  gentle  toward  me,  and  have  left  off  scolding. 
Nevertheless,  I  have  not  been  well  entertained ;  but  that  was 
my  own  fault  and  not  yours.  I  may  liken  myself  to  an  epicure 
who  snatches  a  taste  of  every  dish  which  is  successively 
brought  to  table  before  he  has  fairly  enjoyed  the  one  before ; 
and  this  has  been  the  case  with  me.  For  before  I  discovered 
the  nature  of  justice,  I  left  that  and  proceeded  to  inquire 


198  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

whether  justice  was  virtue  and  wisdom  or  evil  and  folly ;  and 
then  arose  a  further  question  about  the  comparative  advan- 
tages of  justice  and  injustice,  and  I  could  not  refrain  from 
passing  on  to  that.  And  the  result  of  all  is  that  I  know 
nothing  at  all.  For  I  know  not  what  justice  is,  and  therefore 
I  am  not  likely  to  know  whether  it  is  or  is  not  a  virtue,  nor 
can  I  say  whether  the  just  is  happy  or  unhappy. 


THE   REPUBLIC 


BOOK    II 


199 


With  these  words  I  was  thinking  that  I  had  made  an  end 
of  the  discussion  ;  but  the  end,  in  truth,  proved  to  be  only  a 
beginning.  For  Glaucon,  who  is  at  all  times  the  boldest 
of  men,  was  dissatisfied  at  Thrasymachus'  retirement ;  he  5^ 
wanted  to  have  the  battle  out.  So  he  said  to  me  :  Socrates, 
do  you  wish  really  to  persuade  us,  or  only  to  seem  to  have 
persuaded  us,  that  to  be  just  is  always  better  than  to  be  un- 
just? 

I  should  wish  really  to  persuade  you,  I  replied,  if  I  could. 

Then  you  certainly  have  not  succeeded.  And  will  you  tell 
me,  he  said,  how  you  would  arrange  goods  ;  is  there  not  one 
class  of  goods  which  are  desirable  in  themselves,  and  independ- 
ently of  their  results,  as,  for  example,  mere  innocent  pleasures 
and  enjoyments,  upon  which  nothing  follows  ? 

I  think  that  there  is  such  a  class,  I  replied. 

What  would  you  say  to  a  second  class  of  goods  which  are 
desirable  not  only  in  themselves,  but  also  for  their  results,  such 
as  knowledge,  sight,  health  ? 

To  that  likewise  I  assent. 

Thirdly,  would  you  recognize  a  class  of  goods  troublesome 
in  themselves,  yet  profitable  to  us  ;  such,  for  example,  as  gym- 
nastic exercises,  or  the  healing  and  treatment  of  disease,  and 
the  business  of  money-making,  which  no  one  would  choose 
for  their  own  sakes,  but  only  for  the  sake  of  some  reward  or 
result  of  them  ? 

There  is,  I  said,  this  third  class  also.  But  why  do  you 
ask? 

Because  I  want  to  know  in  which  of  the  three  classes  you 
would  place  justice  ? 

In  the  highest  and  noblest  class,  I  replied,  of  goods,         ~ 
which  he  who  is  to  be  happy  desires  for  their  own  sakes 
as  well  as  for  their  results. 

Then  the  many  are  of  another  mind  ;  they  think  that  jus- 
tice is  of  the  troublesome  class  of  goods,  which  are  to  be  pur- 
sued for  the  sake  of  rewards  and  reputation,  but  in  themselves 
are  rather  to  be  avoided. 

I  know,  I  said,  that  this  is  their  doctrine,  and  this  was  also 


200  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

the  sentiment  of  Thrasymachus,  when  originally  he  blamed 
justice  and  praised  injustice;  but  I  appear  not  to  understand 
him. 

I  wish,  he  said,  that  you  would  hear  me  as  well  as  him,  and 
then  I  shall  see  whether  you  and  I  agree.  For  Thrasymachus 
seems  to  me  to  have  been  charmed  by  your  voice,  like  a  snake, 
sooner  than  he  ought  to  have  been  j  and  I  am  not  yet  satis- 
fied with  the  account  which  has  been  given  of  the  nature  of 
justice  and  injustice.  Leaving  the  rewards  and  results  of  them, 
I  want  to  know  what  they,  either  of  them,  are  in  themselves, 
and  what  power  they  have  in  the  soul.  If  you  please,  then,  I 
will  revive  the  argument  of  Thrasymachus.  And  first  I  will 
speak  of  the  nature  and  origin  of  justice  according  to  the  com- 
mon view  of  them.  Secondly,  I  will  show  that  all  men  who 
practice  justice  do  so  against  their  will,  and  not  as  a  good,  but 
as  a  necessity.  And  thirdly,  I  will  maintain  that  there  is  rea- 
son in  this,  for  in  their  view,  the  life  of  the  unjust  is  better  far 
than  the  life  of  the  just.  That  is  only  what  they  say,  Socrates, 
for  I  myself  am  not  of  their  opinion.  But  still  I  acknowledge 
that  I  am  perplexed  when  I  hear  the  voices  of  Thrasymachus 
and  myriads  of  others  dinning  in  my  ears;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  have  never  yet  heard  the  thesis  that  justice  is  better 
than  injustice  maintained  in  a  satisfactory  way.  If  I  could 
hear  the  praises  of  justice  and  injustice  considered  in  them- 
selves, then  I  should  be  satisfied,  and  you  are  the  person  from 
whom  I  expect  to  hear  this ;  and  therefore  I  will  praise  the 
unjust  life  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  and  the  manner  in  which 
I  speak  will  indicate  also  the  manner  in  which  I  desire  to  hear 
you  praising  justice  and  censuring  injustice.  Will  you  say 
whether  you  approve  of  this  ? 

Indeed  I  do ;  nor  can  I  imagine  any  theme  about  which  a 
man  of  sense  would  oftener  wish  to  converse. 

I  am  delighted,  he  replied,  to  hear  you  say  that,  and  shall 
begin  by  speaking  of  the  nature  and  origin  of  justice. 

They  say  that  to  do  injustice  is,  by  nature,  good  ;  to  suffer 
injustice,  evil ;  but  that  the  evil  is  greater  than  the  good.  And 
when  men  have  done  and  suffered  and  had  experience  of  both, 
not  being  able  to  avoid  the  one  and  obtain  the  other, 
they  think  that  they  had  better  agree  with  one  another 
to  have  neither,  and  thence  arise  laws  and  covenants  among 
them ;    and  that  which  is  ordained  by  law  they  term  lawful 


THE   REPUBLIC  201 

and  just.  This,  as  they  affirm,  is  the  origin  and  nature  of  jus- 
tice, arising  out  of  a  mean  or  compromise  between  the  best  of 
all,  which  is  to  do  and  not  to  suffer  injustice,  and  the  worst  of 
all,  which  is  to  suffer  without  the  power  of  retaliation  ;  and 
justice,  being  in  a  mean  between  the  two,  is  tolerated  not  as  a 
good,  but  as  the  lesser  evil,  and  honored  by  reason  of  the  ina- 
bility of  men  to  do  injustice.  For  no  man  who  is  worthy  to  be 
called  a  man  would  submit  to  such  an  agreement  if  he  were 
able  to  resist ;  he  would  be  mad  if  he  did.  This,  Socrates,  is 
the  received  account  of  the  nature  and  origin  of  justice. 

Now  that  justice  is  only  the  inability  to  do  injustice  will 
best  appear  if  we  imagine  something  of  this  kind  :  suppose  we 
give  both  the  just  and  the  unjust  entire  liberty  to  do  what  they 
will,  and  let  us  attend  and  see  whither  desire  will  lead  them ; 
then  we  shall  detect  the  just  man  in  the  very  act ;  the  just  and 
unjust  will  be  found  going  the  same  way, — following  their 
interest,  which  all  natures  conceive  to  be  their  good,  and  are 
only  diverted  into  the  path  of  justice  by  the  force  of  law.  The 
liberty  which  we  are  supposing  may  be  most  conveniently 
given  to  them  in  the  form  of  such  a  power  as  is  said  to  have 
been  possessed  by  Gyges,1  the  ancestor  of  Croesus,2  the 
Lydian.  For  Gyges,  according  to  the  tradition,  was  a  shep- 
herd and  servant  of  the  king  of  Lydia,  and,  while  he  was  in 
the  field,  there  was  a  storm  and  earthquake,  which  made  an 
opening  in  the  earth  at  the  place  where  he  was  feeding  his 
flock.  He  was  amazed  at  the  sight,  and  descended  into  the 
opening,  where,  among  other  marvels,  he  beheld  a  hollow 
brazen  horse  having  doors,  at  which  he,  stooping  and  looking 
in,  saw  a  dead  body,  of  stature,  as  appeared  to  him,  more  than 
human,  and  having  nothing  on  but  a  gold  ring ;  this  he  took 
from  the  finger  of  the  dead,  and  reascended  out  of  the  open- 
ing. Now  the  shepherds  met  together,  according  to  custom, 
that  they  might  send  their  monthly  report  concerning  the  flock 
to  the  king;  and  into  their  assembly  he  came  having  the  ring 
on  his  finger,  and  as  he  was  sitting  among  them  he  . 
chanced  to  turn  the  collet  of  the  ring  towards  the  inner 
side  of  the  hand,  when  instantly  he  became  invisible,  and  the 
others  began  to  speak  of  him  as  if  he  were  no  longer  there.   He 

1  Gyges  (gi'jez). 

2  Croesus  (6th  century  bc):  a  king  of  Lydia  in  Asia  Minor,  whose  wealth 
became  proverbial  in  all  languages. 


202  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

was  astonished  at  this,  and  again  touching  the  ring  he  turned 
the  collet  outward  and  reappeared  j  thereupon  he  made  trials 
of  the  ring,  and  always  with  the  same  result ;  when  he  turned 
the  collet  inwards  he  became  invisible,  when  outwards  he  re- 
appeared. Perceiving  this,  he  immediately  contrived  to  be 
chosen  messenger  to  the  court,  where  he  no  sooner  arrived 
than  he  seduced  the  queen,  and  with  her  help  conspired  against 
the  king  and  slew  him,  and  took  the  kingdom.  Suppose  now 
that  there  were  two  such  magic  rings,  and  the  just  put  on  one 
of  them  and  the  unjust  the  other ;  no  man  is  of  such  adaman- 
tine temper  that  he  would  stand  fast  in  justice, — that  is  what 
they  think.  No  man  would  dare  to  be  honest  when  he  could 
safely  take  what  he  liked  out  of  the  market,  or  go  into  houses 
and  lie  with  any  one  at  his  pleasure,  or  kill  or  release  from 
prison  whom  he  would,  and  in  all  respects  be  like  a  god  among 
men.  Then  the  actions  of  the  just  would  be  as  the  actions  of 
the  unjust ;  just  or  unjust  would  arrive  at  last  at  the  same 
goal.  And  this  is  surely  a  great  proof  that  a  man  is  just,  not 
willingly  or  because  he  thinks  that  justice  is  any  good  to  him 
individually,  but  of  necessity,  for  wherever  any  one  thinks  that 
he  can  safely  be  unjust,  there  he  is  unjust.  For  all  men  be- 
lieve in  their  hearts  that  injustice  is  far  more  profitable  to  the 
individual  than  justice,  and  he  who  takes  this  line  of  argument 
will  say  that  they  are  right.  For  if  you  could  imagine  anyone 
having  such  a  power,  and  never  doing  any  wrong  or  touching 
what  was  another's,  he  would  be  thought  by  the  lookers  on  to 
be  a  most  wretched  idiot,  although  they  would  praise  him  to 
one  another's  faces,  and  keep  up  appearances  with  one  another 
from  a  fear  that  they  too  might  be  sufferers  of  injustice. 
Enough  of  this. 

Now,  if  we  are  to  form  a  real  judgment  of  the  life  of  the 
just  and  unjust,  we  must  isolate  them  ;  there  is  no  other  way ; 
and  how  is  the  isolation  to  be  effected  ?  I  answer  :  Let  the 
unjust  man  be  entirely  unjust,  and  the  just  man  entirely  just ; 
nothing  is  to  be  taken  away  from  either  of  them,  and  both  are 
to  be  perfected  for  the  fulfillment  of  their  respective  parts. 
First,  let  the  unjust  be  like  other  distinguished  masters  of 
,  crafts ;  like  the  skillful  pilot  or  physician,  who  knows  his 
own  powers  and  attempts  only  what  is  within  their  limits, 
and  who,  if  he  fails  at  any  point,  is  able  to  recover  himself.  So 
let  the  unjust  make  his  unjust  attempts  in  the  right  way,  and 


THE   REPUBLIC  203 

keep  in  the  dark  if  he  means  to  be  great  in  his  injustice  (he 
who  is  detected  is  nobody)  :  for  the  highest  reach  of  injustice  is, 
to  be  deemed  just  when  you  are  not.  Therefore,  I  say  that  to 
the  perfectly  unjust  man  we  must  attribute  the  most  perfect  in- 
justice ;  there  is  to  be  no  deduction,  and  we  must  allow  him, 
while  doing  the  most  unjust  acts,  to  have  won  for  himself  the 
greatest  reputation  for  justice.  If  he  has  taken  a  false  step  he 
must  be  able  to  retrieve  himself,  being  one  who  can  speak  with 
effect,  if  any  of  his  deeds  come  to  light,  and  force  his  way 
where  force  is  required,  and  having  gifts  of  courage  and 
strength,  and  command  of  money  and  friends.  And  at  his  side 
let  us  place  the  just  man  in  his  nobleness  and  simplicity,  being, 
as  ^Eschylus  3  says,  and  not  seeming.  There  must  be  no  seem- 
ing, for  if  he  seem  to  be  just  he  will  be  honored  and  rewarded, 
and  then  we  shall  not  know  whether  he  is  just  for  the  sake  of 
justice  or  for  the  sake  of  honors  and  rewards ;  therefore,  let 
him  be  clothed  in  justice  only,  and  have  no  other  covering  ; 
and  he  must  be  imagined  in  a  state  of  life  very  different  from 
that  of  the  last.  Let  him  be  the  best  of  men,  and  be  esteemed 
to  be  the  worst ;  then  let  us  see  whether  his  virtue  is  proof 
against  infamy  and  its  consequences.  And  let  him  continue 
thus  to  the  hour  of  death ;  being  just,  let  him  seem  to  be  un- 
just. Then  when  both  have  reached  the  uttermost  extreme, 
the  one  of  justice  and  the  other  of  injustice,  let  judgment  be 
given  which  of  them  is  the  happier  of  the  two.4 

Heavens  !  my  dear  Glaucon,  I  said,  how  energetically  you 
polish  them  up  for  the  decision,  first  one  and  then  the  other, 
as  if  they  were  two  statues. 

I  do  my  best,  he  said.  And  now  that  we  know  what  they 
are  like  there  is  no  difficulty  in  tracing  out  the  sort  of  life  which 
awaits  either  of  them.  But  as  you  may  think  the  description 
of  this  a  little  too  coarse,  I  will  ask  you  to  fancy,  Socrates,  that 
the  words  which  follow  are  not  mine.  Let  me  put  them  into 
the  mouths  of  the  eulogists  of  injustice.  They  will  tell  you 
that  in  the  case  described  the  just  man  will  be  scourged,  racked, 
bound — will  have  his  eyes  burnt  out ;  and,  at  last,  after  suffer- 
ing every  kind  of  evil,  he  will  be  impaled.     This  will  teach  him 

»  ^schylus  (eslcy-lus,  525-456  B.C.):  earliest  of  the  three  great  tragic 
poets  of  Greece. 

*  "There  is  a  just  man  that  perisheth  in  his  righteousness,  and  there  is  a 
wicked  man  that  prolongeth  his  life  in  wickedness."— Eccl.  vii.  15. 


204  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

that  he  ought  to  seem  only,  and  not  to  be,  just ;  and  that  the 
words  of  ^Eschylus  may  be  more  truly  spoken  of  the  unjust 
M  than  of  the  just.  For  the  unjust,  as  they  will  say,  is  pur- 
suing a  reality  ;  at  any  rate,  he  does  not  live  with  a  view 
to  appearances,  he  wants  to  be  really  unjust,  and  not  to  seem 
only  :  — 

11  His  mind  is  like  a  deep  and  fertile  soil 
Out  of  which  his  prudent  counsels  spring." 

In  the  first  place,  he  is  thought  just,  and  therefore  bears  rule ; 
he  can  marry  whom  he  will,  and  give  in  marriage  to  whom  he 
will ;  also  he  can  trade  and  deal  where  he  likes,  and  always  to 
his  own  advantage,  because  he  has  no  misgivings  about  injus- 
tice ;  and  in  every  contest,  whether  public  or  private,  he  gets 
the  better  of  his  antagonists;  and  has  gains,  and  is  rich,  and 
out  of  his  gains  he  can  benefit  his  friends,  and  harm  his  en- 
emies ;  moreover,  he  can  offer  sacrifices,  and  dedicate  gifts  to 
the  gods  abundantly  and  magnificently,  and  can  honor  the 
gods  and  any  man  whom  he  wants  to  honor  in  far  better  style 
than  the  just,  which  is  a  very  good  reason  why  he  should  be 
dearer  to  the  gods  than  the  just.  Thus  they  make  to  appear, 
Socrates,  that  the  life  of  the  unjust  is  so  ordered  both  by  gods 
and  men  as  to  be  more  blessed  than  the  life  of  the  just. 

I  was  going  to  say  something  in  answer  to  Glaucon,  when 
Adeimantus  his  brother  interposed :  Socrates,  he  said,  you 
don't  suppose  that  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  urged  ? 

Why,  what  else  is  there  ?  I  answered. 

The  strongest  point  of  all  has  not  been  even  mentioned,  he 
replied. 

Well,  then,  according  to  the  proverb,  "  Let  brother  help 
brother  j  "  and  if  he  fails  in  any  part  do  you  assist  him  ;  al- 
though I  must  confess  that  Glaucon  has  already  said  quite 
enough  to  lay  me  in  the  dust,  and  take  from  me  the  power  of 
helping  justice. 

Nonsense,  he  replied ;  I  want  you  to  hear  the  converse  of 
Glaucon's  argument,  which  is  equally  required  in  order  to 
bring  out  what  I  believe  to  be  his  meaning  ;  I  mean  theargu- 
6  ment  of  those  who  praise  justice  and  censure  injustice, 
with  a  view  to  their  consequences  only.  Parents  and 
tutors  are  always  telling  their  sons  and  their  wards  that  they 
are  to  be  just;  but  why?  not  for  the  sake  of  justice,  but  for 


THE   REPUBLIC  205 

the  sake  of  character  and  reputation  ;  in  the  hope  of  obtain- 
ing some  of  those  offices  and  marriages  and  other  advantages 
which  Glaucon  was  enumerating  as  accruing  to  the  unjust  from 
a  fair  reputation.  More,  however,  is  made  of  appearances 
by  this  class  than  by  the  others ;  for  they  throw  in  the  good 
opinion  of  the  gods,  and  will  tell  you  of  a  shower  of  benefits 
which  the  heavens,  as  they  say,  rain  upon  the  pious ;  and  this 
accords  with  the  testimony  of  the  noble  Hesiod  and  Homer, 
the  first  of  whom  says,  that  for  the  just  the  gods  make — 

**  The  oaks  to  bear  acorns  at  their  summit,  and  bees  in  the  middle  ; 
And  the  sheep  are  bowed  down  with  the  weight  of  their  own  fleeces," 

and  many  other  blessings  of  a  like  kind  are  provided  for  them. 
And  Homer  has  a  very  similar  strain ;  for  he  speaks  of  one 
whose  fame  is — 

"  As  the  fame  of  some  blameless  king  who,  like  a  god, 
Maintains  justice  ;  to  whom  the  black  earth  brings  forth 
Wheat  and  barley,  whose  trees  are  bowed  with  fruit, 
And  his  sheep  never  fail  to  bear,  and  the  sea  gives  him  fish." 

Still  grander  are  the  gifts  of  Heaven  which  Musaeus  5  and  his 
son5  offer  the  just ;  they  take  them  down  into  the  world  below 
where  they  have  the  saints  feasting  on  couches  with  crowns  on 
their  heads,  and  passing  their  whole  time  in  drinking ;  their 
idea  seems  to  be  that  an  immortality  of  drunkenness  is  the 
highest  meed  of  virtue.  Some  extend  their  rewards  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation;  the  posterity,  as  they  say,  of  the 
faithful  and  just  shall  survive  them.  This  is  the  style  in  which 
they  praise  justice.  But  about  the  wicked  there  is  another 
strain  ;  they  bury  them  in  a  slough,  and  make  them  carry 
water  in  a  sieve";  that  is  their  portion  in  the  world  below, 
and  even  while  living  they  bring  them  to  infamy,  and  inflict 
upon  them  the  punishments  which  Glaucon  described  as  the 
portion  of  the  just,  who  are  reputed  unjust ;  nothing  else  does 
their  invention  supply.  Such  is  their  manner  of  praising  the 
one  and  censuring  the  other. 

"  See  Apology,  note  52  ,  Protagoras,  note  28.  Son,  Eumolpus  (u-mSl'- 
pus). 

«  As  a  punishment  ior  killing  their  husbands,  the  DanaTdes  (da-naT-dez), 
daughters  of  Danaus  (da'na-us\,  were  compelled,  in  Tartarus,  to  draw  water 
forever  in  sieves. 


206  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Again,  Socrates,  let  me  mention  another  way  of  speaking 
about  justice  and  injustice,  which  is  not  confined  to  the  poets, 

6  but  is  also  found  in  prose  writers.     The  universal  voice  of 
mankind  is  saying  that  justice  and  virtue  are  honorable, 

but  grievous  and  toilsome ;  and  that  the  pleasures  of  vice  and 
injustice  are  easy  of  attainment,  and  are  only  censured  by  law 
and  opinion.  They  say  also  that  honesty  is  generally  less 
profitable  than  dishonesty  ;  and  they  are  quite  ready  to  call 
wicked  men  happy,  and  to  honor  them  both  in  public  and 
private  when  they  are  rich  or  have  other  sources  of  power, 
while  they  despise  and  neglect  those  who  may  be  weak  and 
poor,  even  though  acknowledging  that  these  are  better  than 
the  others.  But  the  most  extraordinary  of  all  their  sayings  is 
about  virtue  and  the  gods  :  they  say  that  the  gods  apportion 
calamity  and  evil  to  many  good  men,  and  good  and  happiness 
to  the  evil.  And  mendicant  prophets  go  to  rich  men's  doors 
and  persuade  them  that  they  have  a  power  committed  to  them 
of  making  an  atonement  for  their  sins  or  those  of  their  fathers 
by  sacrifices  or  charms,  with  rejoicings  and  games ;  and  they 
promise  to  harm  an  enemy,  whether  just  or  unjust,  at  a  small 
charge  ;  with  magic  arts  and  incantations  binding  the  will  of 
Heaven  to  do  their  work.  And  the  poets  are  the  authorities 
to  whom  they  appeal,  some  of  them  dispensing  indulgences 
out  of  them,  as  when  the  poet  sings, — 

"  Vice  may  be  easily  found,  and  many  are  they  who  follow  after  her ; 
the  way  is  smooth  and  not  long.  But  before  virtue  the  gods  have  set 
toil," 

and  a  path  which  they  describe  as  tedious  and  steep.  Others, 
again,  cite  Homer  as  a  witness  that  the  gods  may  be  influenced 
by  men,  as  he  also  says, — 

"The  gods,  too,  may  be  moved  by  prayers;  and  men  pray  to  them 
and  turn  away  their  wrath  by  sacrifices  and  entreaties,  and  by  libations 
and  the  odor  of  fat,  when  they  have  sinned  and  transgressed." 

And  they  produce  a  host  of  books  written  by  Musseus  and  Or- 
pheus, who  are  children  of  the  Moon  and  the  Muses7 — that  is 
what  they  say — according  to  which  they  perform  their  ritual, 

7  Musseus  was  the  son  of  Selene  (se-le'ne),  goddess  of  the  Moon.  Orpheus 
was  the  son  of  the  Muse  Calliope  and  of  Apollo,  who  as  god  of  song  and 
poetry  was  called  the  leader  of  the  Muses. 


THE   REPUBLIC  207 

and  persuade  not  only  individuals,  but  whole  cities,  that  expia- 
tions and  atonements  for  sin  may  be  made  by  sacrifices  and 
amusements  which  fill  a  vacant  hour,  and  are  equally  at  the 
service  of  the  living  and  the  dead ;  the  latter  they  call 
mysteries,8  and  they  redeem  us  from  the  pains  of  hell,  3  5 
but  if  we  neglect  them  no  one  knows  what  awaits  us.9 

He  proceeded  :  And  now  when  the  young  hear  all  this  said 
about  virtue  and  vice,  and  the  manner  in  which  gods  and  men 
regard  them,  how  are  they  likely  to  be  affected,  my  dear  Socra- 
tes ;  those  of  them,  I  mean,  who  are  quickwitted,  and,  like 
bees  on  the  wing,  light  on  everything  which  they  hear,  and 
thence  gather  inferences  as  to  the  character  and  way  of  life 
which  are  best  for  them  ?  Probably  the  youth  will  say  to 
himself  in  the  words  of  Pindar — 

"  Can  I  by  justice  or  by  crooked  ways  of  deceit  ascend  a  loftier  tower, 
which  shall  be  a  house  of  defense  to  me  all  my  days  ?  " 

For  what  men  say  is  that,  if  I  am  really  just  without  being 
thought  just,  this  is  no  good,  but  evident  pain  and  loss.  But 
if,  though  unjust,  I  acquire  the  character  of  justice,  a  heavenly 
life  is  to  be  mine.  Since  then,  as  philosophers  say,  appearance 
is  master  of  truth  and  lord  of  bliss,  to  appearance  I  must  wholly 
devote  myself.  Around  and  about  me  I  will  draw  the  simple 
garb  of  virtue,  but  behind  I  will  trail  the  subtle  and  crafty  fox, 

8  See  Symposium,  note  32. 

9  On  true  and  false  worship,  compare  :  "  Now,  God  is  the  measure  of  all 
things  in  a  sense  far  higher  than  any  man  could  be,  as  the  common  saying 
affirms.  And  he  who  would  be  dear  to  God  must,  as  far  as  is  possible,  be 
like  him,  and  such  as  he  is.  Wherefore  the  temperate  man  is  the  friend  of 
God,  for  he  is  like  him  ;  and  the  intemperate  man  is  unlike  him,  and  differ- 
ent from  him,  and  unjust.  And  the  same  holds  of  other  things,  and  this  is 
the  conclusion,  which  is  also  the  noblest  and  truest  of  all  sayings  :  That  for 
the  good  man  to  offer  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  and  hold  converse  with  them  by 
means  of  prayers  and  offerings,  and  every  kind  of  service,  is  the  noblest  and 
best  of  all  things,  and  also  the  most  conducive  to  a  happy  life,  and  very  fit 
and  meet.  But  with  the  bad  man,  the  opposite  of  this  holds ;  for  the  bad 
man  has  an  impious  soul,  whereas  the  good  is  pure  ;  and  from  one  who  is 
polluted,  neither  a  good  man  nor  God  is  right  in  receiving  gifts.  And, 
therefore,  the  unholy  waste  their  much  service  upon  the  gods,  which,  when 
offered  by  any  holy  man,  is  always  accepted  of  them." — Plato,  Laws  IV.,  716. 

Compare  the  attitude  of  the  Old  Testament  prophets  toward  ritualism : 
"  To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude  of  your  sacrifices  unto  me?  saith  the 
Lord :  I  am  full  of  the  burnt  offerings  of  rams,  and  the  fat  of  fed  beasts ; 
and  I  delight  not  in  the  blood  of  bullocks,  or  of  lambs,  or  of  he-goats. 

"  When  ye  come  to  appear  before  me,  who  hath  required  this  at  your 
hands,  to  tread  my  courts  ? 

"  Bring  no  more  vain  oblations  ;  incense  is  an  abomination  unto  me  ;  the 


208  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

as  Archilochus,10  first  of  sages,  counsels.  But  I  hear  some  one 
exclaiming  that  wickedness  is  not  easily  concealed  ;  to  which 
I  answer  that  nothing  great  is  easy.  Nevertheless,  this  is  the 
road  to  happiness  ;  and  the  way  by  which  we  must  go,  follow- 
ing in  the  steps  of  the  argument ;  and  as  to  concealment,  that 
may  be  secured  by  the  cooperation  of  societies  and  political 
clubs.  And  there  are  professors  of  rhetoric  who  teach  the 
philosophy  of  persuading  courts  and  assemblies  ;  and  so,  partly 
by  persuasion  and  partly  by  force,  I  shall  make  unlawful  gains 
and  not  be  punished.  Still  I  hear  a  voice  saying  that  the  gods 
cannot  be  deceived,  neither  can  they  be  compelled.  But  what 
if  there  are  no  gods  ?  or,  suppose  that  the  gods  have  no  care 
about  human  things — in  either  case  the  result  is  the  same,  that 
we  need  not  trouble  ourselves  with  concealment.  And  even  if 
there  are  gods,  and  they  have  a  care  of  us,  yet  we  know  about 
them  only  from  the  traditions  and  genealogies  of  the  poets  ; 
and  these  are  the  very  persons  who  say  that  they  may  be  influ- 
enced by  prayers  and  offerings.     Let  us  be  consistent  then,  and 

new  moons  and  sabbaths,  the  calling  of  assemblies,  I  cannot  away  with  ;  it 
is  iniquity,  even  the  solemn  meeting. 

"Your  new  moons  and  your  appointed  feasts  my  soul  hateth  ;  they  are 
a  trouble  to  me  ;  I  am  weary  to  bear  them. 

"  And  when  ye  spread  forth  your  hands,  I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you  : 
yea,  when  ye  make  many  prayers,  I  will  not  hear  :  your  hands  are  full  of 
blood. 

"  Wash  you,  make  you  clean ;  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doing  from  be- 
fore mine  eyes  ;  cease  to  do  evil. 

"  Learn  to  do  well." — Isaiah  i.  11-17. 

"  I  hate,  I  despise  your  feast  days,  and  I  will  not  smell  in  your  solemn  as- 
semblies. 

"  Though  ye  offer  me  burnt  offerings  and  your  meat  offerings,  I  will  not 
accept  them  :  neither  will  I  regard  the  peace  offerings  of  your  fat  beasts. 

"  Take  thou  away  from  me  the  noise  of  thy  songs  ;  for  I  will  not  hear  the 
melody  of  thy  viols. 

"  But  let  judgment  run  down  as  waters,  and  righteousness  as  a  mighty 
stream." — Amos  v.  21-24. 

"  Will  the  Lord  be  pleased  with  thousands  of  rams,  or  with  ten  thousands 
of  rivers  of  oil  ?  shall  I  give  my  first-born  for  my  transgression,  the  fruit  of 
my  body  for  the  sin  of  my  soul  ?  " — Micah  vi.  7. 

"  To  what  purpose  cometh  there  to  me  incense  from  Sheba,  and  the  sweet 
cane  from  a  far  country  ?  your  burnt  offerings  are  not  acceptable  nor  your 
sacrifices  sweet  unto  me." — Jeremiah  vi.  20. 

"The  sacrifice  of  the  wicked  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord:  but  the 
prayer  of  the  upright  is  his  delight." — Proverbs  xv.  8. 

"  For  thou  desirest  not  sacrifice  ;  else  would  I  give  it :  thou  delightest  not 
in  burnt  offering. 

"  The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit :  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart, 
O  God,  thou  wilt  not  despise." — Psalms  vi.  16,  17. 

10  Archilochus  (ar-kiTo-kus,  714  ? -676  B.C.)  :  Greek  lyric  poet,  noted  es- 
pecially for  his  satire. 


THE   REPUBLIC  209 

either  believe  both  or  neither.  And  if  we  believe  them,  why- 
then  we  had  better  be  unjust,  and  offer  of  the  fruits  of  injus- 
tice ;  for  if  we  are  just  we  shall  indeed  escape  the  ven-  . 
geance  of  heaven,  but  we  shall  lose  the  gains  of  injustice  ; 
whereas,  if  we  are  unjust,  we  shall  keep  the  gains,  and  by  our 
sinning  and  praying,  and  praying  and  sinning,  the  gods  will  be 
propitiated,  and  we  shall  be  forgiven.  "  But  there  is  a  world 
below  in  which  either  we  or  our  children  will  suffer  for  our 
deeds."  Yes,  my  friend,  will  be  the  reply,  but  there  are  mys- 
teries and  atoning  deities,  and  these  have  great  power.  That 
is  what  mighty  cities  declare  ;  and  the  children  of  the  gods, 
who  are  their  poets  and  prophets,  affirm  the  same. 

On  what  principle,  then,  shall  we  choose  justice  rather  than 
the  worst  injustice?  when,  if  we  only  unite  the  latter  with  a 
deceitful  regard  to  appearances,  we  shall  fare  to  our  mind 
both  with  gods  and  men,  here  as  well  as  hereafter,  as  say  the 
most  numerous  and  the  highest  authorities.  Knowing  all  this, 
Socrates,  how  can  any  one  who  has  any  advantage  of  mind  or 
person  or  rank  or  wealth,  be  willing  to  honor,  or  indeed  re- 
frain from  laughing  at  the  praises  of  justice?  For  even  if  there 
should  be  any  one  who  is  able  to  disprove  my  words,  and 
who  is  satisfied  that  justice  is  best,  still  he  is  not  angry  with 
the  unjust ;  he  is  very  ready  to  forgive  them,  knowing  as  he 
also  does  that  men  are  not  just  of  their  own  free  will ;  unless, 
perad venture,  there  be  some  one  whom  the  divinity  within 
him  has  inspired  with  a  hatred  of  injustice,  or  who  abstains 
because  he  has  found  knowledge — but  no  other  man.  He 
only  blames  injustice  who,  owing  to  cowardice  or  age  or  some 
weakness,  is  incapable  of  being  unjust.  And  this  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  those  who  are  incapable,  when  they  have  the 
power,  and  in  as  far  as  they  have  the  power,  are  the  first  to 
be  unjust. 

Now  all  this  simply  arises  out  of  the  circumstance  which 
you  may  remember,  Socrates,  that  my  brother  and  I  both 
mentioned  to  you  at  the  beginning  of  the  argument.  We  told 
you  how  astonished  we  were  to  find  that  of  all  the  professing 
panegyrists  of  justice — beginning  with  the  heroes  of  old,  of 
whom  any  memorial  has  been  preserved  to  us,  and  ending 
with  the  men  of  our  own  time — no  one  has  ever  blamed  in- 
justice or  praised  justice  except  with  a  view  to  the  glories, 
honors,  and  benefits  which  flow  from  them.     No  one  has  ever 

14 


210  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

adequately  described  either  in  verse  or  prose  the  true  essential 
nature  of  either  of  these  immanent  in  the  soul,  and  invisible 
to  any  human  or  divine  eye ;  or  shown  that  of  all  the  things 
of  a  man's  soul  which  he  has  within  him,  justice  is  the  great- 
,  est  good,  and  injustice  the  greatest  evil.  Had  this  been 
7  the  universal  strain,  had  you  sought  to  persuade  us  of 
this  from  our  youth  upwards,  we  should  not  have  been  on  the 
watch  to  keep  one  another  from  doing  wrong,  but  every  one 
would  have  been  his  own  watchman,  because  afraid,  if  he  did 
wrong,  of  having  the  greatest  evil  dwelling  with  him.  I  dare 
say  that  Thrasymachus  and  others  would  seriously  hold  the 
language  which  I  have  been  only  repeating,  and  more  of  the 
same  sort  about  justice  and  injustice,  grossly,  as  I  conceive, 
perverting  their  true  nature.  But  I  am  speaking  with  all  my 
might,  as  I  must  confess,  only  because  I  want  to  hear  you 
speak  on  the  opposite  side ;  and  I  would  ask  you  to  show  not 
only  the  superiority  of  justice  over  injustice,  but  what  they  do 
to  the  possessors  of  them  that  makes  the  one  to  be  a  good  and 
the  other  an  evil  to  him.11  And  please,  as  Glaucon  said,  to 
exclude  reputation  ;  for  unless  you  clothe  the  just  in  the  garb 
of  injustice,  and  the  unjust  in  that  of  justice,  we  shall  say  that 
you  do  not  praise  justice,  but  the  appearance  of  justice  ;  we 
shall  think  that  you  are  only  exhorting  us  to  keep  injustice 
dark,  and  that  you  really  agree  with  Thrasymachus  in  think- 
ing that  justice  is  another's  good  and  the  interest  of  the 
stronger,  and  that  injustice  is  a  man's  own  profit  and  interest, 
though  injurious  to  the  weaker.  Now  as  you  have  admitted 
that  justice  is  one  of  that  highest  class  of  goods  which  are  de- 
sired as  well  for  their  results  as,  in  a  far  greater  degree,  for  their 
own  sakes — just  as  sight  or  knowledge  or  health,  or  any  other 
real  and  natural  and  not  merely  conventional  goods,  are  de- 
sired for  their  own  sakes — I  would  ask  you  to  direct  your 
praises  to  that  one  point  only  :  I  mean  to  the  essential  good 
of  justice  and  evil  of  injustice.  Let  others  praise  the  rewards 
and  appearances  of  justice ;  that  is  a  manner  of  arguing 
which,  as  coming  from  them,  I  am  ready  to  tolerate,  but 
from  you  who  have  spent  your  whole  life  in  thinking  of  this, 
unless  I  hear  the  contrary  from  your  own  lips,  I  expect  some- 
thing better.     And  therefore,  I  say,  not  only  prove  to  us  that 

11 "  The  labour  of  the  righteous  tendeth  to  life  ;  the  fruit  of  the  wicked  to 
sin." — Proverbs  x.  16. 


THE   REPUBLIC  211 

justice  is  better  than  injustice,  but  show  what  they  either  of 
them  do  to  the  possessors  of  them,  which  makes  the  one  to  be 
good  and  the  other  an  evil,  whether  seen  or  unseen  by  gods 
and  men. 

I  had  always  admired  the  genius  of  Glaucon  and  Adeiman- 
tus,  but  when  I   heard  this  I  was  quite  charmed,  and  said  : 
That  was    not  a  bad   beginning    of  the  Elegiacs 12  in 
which  the  admirer  of  Glaucon  addressed  you  as  your 
father's  sons  after  you  had  distinguished  yourselves  at  the  bat- 
tle of  Megara13. — 

"  Sons  of  Ariston,  divine  offspring  of  a  glorious  hero." 

The  epithet  is  very  appropriate,  for  there  is  something  truly 
divine  in  being  able  to  argue  as  you  have  done  for  the  superi- 
ority of  injustice,  and  remaining  uninfluenced  by  your  own 
arguments.  And  I  do  believe  that  you  are  not  influenced  ; 
this  I  infer  from  your  general  character,  for  had  I  judged  only 
from  your  speeches  I  should  have  mistrusted  you.  But  now, 
trusting  you,  I  have  all  the  greater  mistrust  of  myself.  For  I 
am  in  a  strait  between  two ;  on  the  one  hand  I  feel  my  own 
inability  to  maintain  the  cause  of  justice — your  unwillingness 
to  accept  the  answer  which  I  made  to  Thrasymachus  about  the 
superiority  of  justice  over  injustice  proves  to  me  that  I  am  un- 
equal to  the  task ;  and  yet  on  the  other  hand  I  cannot  re- 
fuse to  help,  for  I  fear  that  there  may  be  a  sin  when  justice  is 
evil  spoken  of  in  standing  by  and  failing  to  offer  help  or  suc- 
cor while  breath  or  speech  remain  to  me.  And  therefore  I 
must  give  such  help  as  I  can.  Glaucon  and  the  rest  entreated 
me  by  all  means  not  to  let  the  question  drop,  but  to  proceed 
in  the  investigation.  They  wanted  to  arrive  at  the  truth, 
first,  about  the  nature  of  justice  and  injustice,  and  secondly, 
about  their  relative  advantages.  I  told  them,  what  I  really 
thought,  that  the  search  would  be  no  easy  one,  and  would  re- 
quire very  good  eyes.  Seeing  then,  I  said,  we  are  no  great 
wits,  I  think  that  we  had  better  adopt  a  method  which  might 
be  recommended  to  those  who  are  short-sighted,  and  are 
bidden  by  some  one  to  read  small  letters  a  long  way  off;  one 

12  Refers  merely  to  the  metre,  not  the  subject  of  the  poem  from  which  the 
quotation  is  made. 

13  It  is  uncertain  which  of  the  many  battles  fought  at  Megara  is  here  re- 
ferred to. 


212  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

of  the  party  recollects  that  he  has  seen  the  very  same  letters 
elsewhere  written  larger  and  on  a  larger  scale — if  they  were 
the  same  and  we  could  read  the  larger  letters  first,  and  then 
proceed  to  the  lesser — that  would  be  thought  a  rare  piece  of 
good  fortune. 

Very  true,  said  Adeimantus,  but  how  does  this  apply  to 
our  present  inquiry  ? 

I  will  tell  you,  I  replied ;  justice,  which  is  the  subject  of 
our  inquiry,  is,  as  you  know,  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  virtue 
of  an  individual,  and  sometimes  as  the  virtue  of  a  State. 

True,  he  replied. 

And  is  not  a  State  larger  than  an  individual  ? 

It  is. 

Then  in  the  larger  the  quantity  of  justice  will  be  larger  and 
more  easily  discernible.  I  propose  therefore  that  we  inquire 
,  into  the  nature  of  justice  and  injustice  as  appearing  in 
the  State  first,  and  secondly  in  the  individual,  proceed- 
ing from  the  greater  to  the  lesser  and  comparing  them. 

That,  he  said,  is  an  excellent  proposal. 

And  suppose  we  imagine  the  State  as  in  a  process  of  crea- 
tion, and  then  we  shall  see  the  justice  and  injustice  of  the 
State  in  process  of  creation  also. 

Very  likely. 

When  the  State  is  completed  there  may  be  a  hope  that  the 
object  of  our  search  will  be  more  easily  discovered. 

Yes,  more  easily. 

And  shall  we  make  the  attempt?  I  said  ;  although  I  cannot 
promise  you  as  an  inducement  that  the  task  will  be  a  light 
one.     Reflect  therefore. 

I  have  reflected,  said  Adeimantus,  and  am  anxious  that  you 
should  proceed. 

A  State,  I  said,  arises,  as  I  conceive,  out  of  the  needs  of 
mankind  ;  no  one  is  self-sufficing,  but  all  of  us  have  many 
wants.     Can  any  other  origin  of  a  State  be  imagined  ? 

None,  he  replied. 

Then,  as  we  have  many  wants,  and  many  persons  are 
needed  to  supply  them,  one  takes  a  helper  for  one  purpose 
and  another  for  another ;  and  when  these  helpers  and  partners 
are  gathered  together  in  one  habitation,  the  body  of  inhabi- 
tants is  termed  a  State. 

True,  he  said. 


THE  REPUBLIC  2l3 

And  they  exchange  with  one  another,  and  one  gives,  and 
another  receives,  under  the  idea  that  the  exchange  will  be  for 
their  good. 

Very  true. 

Then,  I  said,  let  us  begin  and  create  a  State  ;  and  yet  the 
true  creator  is  necessity,  who  is  the  mother  of  our  invention. 

True,  he  replied. 

Now  the  first  and  greatest  of  necessities  is  food,  which  is 
the  condition  of  life  and  existence. 

Certainly. 

The  second  is  a  dwelling,  and  the  third  clothing  and  that 
sort  of  thing. 

True. 

And  now  let  us  see  how  our  city  will  be  able  to  supply  this 
great  demand.  We  may  suppose  that  one  man  is  a  husband- 
man, another  a  builder,  some  one  else  a  weaver  ■  shall  we  add 
to  them  a  shoemaker,  or  perhaps  some  other  purveyor  to  our 
bodily  wants  ? 

Quite  right. 

The  barest  notion  of  a  State  must  include  four  or  five  men. 

Clearly. 

And  how  then  will  they  proceed  ?  Will  each  give  the  re- 
sult of  his  labors  to  all? — the  husbandman,  for  example,  pro- 
ducing, for  four,  and  laboring  in  the  production  of  food  for 
himself  and  others  four  times  as  long  and  as  much  as  he  needs 
to  labor  ;  or  shall  he  leave  others  and  not  be  at  the  trouble  of 
producing  for  them,  but  produce  a  fourth  for  himself 
in  a  fourth  of  the  time,  and  in  the  remaining  three 
fourths  of  his  time  be  employed  in  making  a  house  or  a  coat 
or  a  pair  of  shoes  ? 

Adeimantus  thought  that  the  former  would  be  the  better 
way. 

I  dare  say  that  you  are  right,  I  replied,  for  I  am  reminded 
as  you  speak  that  we  are  not  all  alike  ;  there  are  diversities  of 
natures  among  us  which  are  adapted  to  different  occupations. 

Very  true. 

And  will  you  have  a  work  better  done  when  the  workman 
has  many  occupations,  or  when  he  has  only  one? 

When  he  has  only  one. 

Further,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  work  is  spoilt  when 
not  done  at  the  right  time  ? 


214  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

No  doubt  of  that. 

For  business  is  not  disposed  to  wait  until  the  doer  of  the 
business  is  at  leisure  j  but  the  doer  must  be  at  command,  and 
make  the  business  his  first  object. 

He  must. 

Thus  then  all  things  are  produced  more  plentifully  and 
easily  and  of  a  better  quality  when  one  man  does  one  thing 
which  is  natural  to  him  and  is  done  at  the  right  time,  and 
leaves  other  things. 

Undoubtedly. 

Then  more  than  four  citizens  will  be  required,  for  the  hus- 
bandman will  not  make  his  own  plough  or  mattock,  or  other 
implements  of  agriculture,  if  they  are  to  be  good  for  any- 
thing. Neither  will  the  builder  make  his  tools — and  he,  too, 
needs  many ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  weaver  and 
shoemaker. 

True. 

Then  carpenters,  and  smiths,  and  other  artisans,  will  be 
sharers  in  our  little  State,  which  is  already  beginning  to 
grow. 

True. 

Yet  even  if  we  add  neatherds,  shepherds,  and  other  herds- 
men, in  order  that  our  husbandmen  may  have  oxen  to  plough 
with,  and  builders  as  well  as  husbandmen  have  the  use  of 
beasts  of  burden  for  their  carrying,  and  weavers  and  curriers 
of  their  fleeces  and  skins, — still  our  State  will  not  be  very  large. 

That  is  true ;  yet  neither  will  that  be  a  very  small  State 
which  contains  all  these. 

Further,  I  said,  to  place  the  city  on  a  spot  where  no  im- 
ports are  required  is  well  nigh  impossible. 

Impossible. 

Then  there  must  be  another  class  of  citizens  who  will  bring 
the  required  supply  from  another  city  ? 

There  must. 

But  if  the  trader  goes  empty-handed,  taking  nothing  which 
those  who  are  to  supply  the  need  want,  he  will  come 
back  empty-handed. 

That  is  certain. 

And  therefore  what  they  produce  at  home  must  be  not  only 
enough  for  themselves,  but  such  both  in  quantity  and  quality  as 
to  accommodate  those  from  whom  their  wants  are  supplied. 


THE   REPUBLIC  215 

That  is  true. 

Then  more  husbandmen  and  more  artisans  will  be  re- 
quired ? 

They  will. 

Not  to  mention  the  importers  and  exporters,  who  are  called 
merchants. 

Yes. 

Then  we  shall  want  merchants  ? 

We  shall. 

And  if  merchandise  is  to  be  carried  over  the  sea,  skillful 
sailors  will  be  needed,  and  in  considerable  numbers  ? 

Yes,  in  considerable  numbers. 

Then,  again,  within  the  city,  how  will  they  exchange  their 
productions  ?  and  this,  as  you  may  remember,  was  the  object 
of  our  society. 

The  way  will  be,  that  they  will  buy  and  sell. 

Then  they  will  need  a  market-place,  and  a  money-token  for 
purposes  of  exchange. 

Certainly. 

Suppose  now  that  a  husbandman,  or  possibly  an  artisan, 
brings  some  production  to  market,  and  he  comes  at  a  time 
when  there  is  no  one  to  exchange  with  him, — is  he  to  leave 
his  work  and  sit  idle  in  the  market-place? 

Not  at  all ;  he  will  find  people  there  who,  seeing  this  want, 
take  upon  themselves  the  duty  of  sale.  In  well-ordered  States 
they  are  commonly  those  who  are  the  weakest  in  bodily 
strength,  and  therefore  unable  to  do  anything  else ;  for  all 
they  have  to  do  is  to  be  in  the  market,  and  take  money  of 
those  who  desire  to  buy  goods,  and  in  exchange  for  goods  to 
give  money  to  those  who  desire  to  sell. 

This  want,  then,  will  introduce  retailers  into  our  State.  Is 
not  "  retailer  "  the  term  which  is  applied  to  those  who  sit  in 
the  market-place  buying  and  selling,  while  those  who  wander 
from  one  city  to  another  are  called  merchants  ? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  there  is  another  class  of  servants,  who  are  intellectually 
hardly  on  the  level  of  companionship;  still  they  have  plenty 
of  bodily  strength  for  labor,  which  accordingly  they  sell,  and 
are  called,  if  I  do  not  mistake,  hirelings,  hire  being  the  name 
which  is  given  to  the  price  of  their  labor. 

True. 


2l6  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Then  hirelings  will  help  to  make  onr  population. 

And  now,  Adeimantus,  is  our  State  matured  and  per- 
fected ? 

Surely. 

Where,  then,  is  justice,  and  where  is  injustice,  and  in  which 
part  of  the  State  are  they  to  be  found  ? 

Probably  in  the  relations  of  these  citizens  with  one  an- 
'       other.     I  cannot  imagine  any  other  place  in  which  they 
are  more  likely  to  be  found. 

I  dare  say  that  you  are  right  in  that  suggestion,  I  said  ; 
still,  we  had  better  consider  the  matter  further,  and  not 
shrink  from  the  task. 

First,  then,  let  us  consider  what  will  be  their  way  of  life, 
now  that  we  have  thus  established  them.  Will  they  not  pro- 
duce corn,  and  wine,  and  clothes,  and  shoes,  and  build  houses 
for  themselves  ?  And  when  they  are  housed,  they  will  work 
in  summer  commonly  stripped  and  barefoot,  but  in  winter 
substantially  clothed  and  shod.  They  will  feed  on  barley  and 
wheat,  baking  the  wheat  and  kneading  the  flour,  making 
noble  puddings  and  loaves ;  these  they  will  serve  up  on  a  mat 
of  reeds  or  clean  leaves,  themselves  reclining  the  while  upon 
beds  of  yew  or  myrtle  boughs.  And  they  and  their  children 
will  feast,  drinking  of  the  wine  which  they  have  made,  wear- 
ing garlands  on  their  heads,  and  having  the  praises  of  the 
gods  on  their  lips,  living  in  sweet  society,  and  having  a  care 
that  their  families  do  not  exceed  their  means;  for  they  will 
have  an  eye  to  poverty  or  war. 

But,  said  Glaucon,  interposing,  you  have  not  given  them  a 
relish  to  their  meal. 

True,  I  replied,  I  had  forgotten  that ;  of  course  they  will 
have  a  relish, — salt,  and  olives,  and  cheese,  and  onions,  and 
cabbages  or  other  country  herbs  which  are  fit  for  boiling ;  and 
we  shall  give  them  a  dessert  of  figs,  and  pulse,  and  beans,  and 
myrtle-berries,  and  beech-nuts,  which  they  will  roast  at  the 
fire,  drinking  in  moderation.  And  with  such  a  diet  they 
may  be  expected  to  live  in  peace  to  a  good  old  age,  and  be- 
queath a  similar  life  to  their  children  after  them. 

Yes,  Socrates,  he  said,  and  if  you  were  making  a  city  of 
pigs,  how  else  would  you  feed  the  beasts  ? 

But  what  would  you  have,  Glaucon  ?  I  replied. 

Why,  he  said,  you  should  give  them  the  properties  of  life. 


THE   REPUBLIC  217 

People  who  are  to  be  comfortable  are  accustomed  to  lie  on 
sofas,  and  dine  off  tables,  and  they  should  have  dainties  and 
dessert  in  the  modern  fashion. 

Yes,  said  I,  now  I  understand ;  the  question  which  you 
would  have  me  consider  is,  not  only  how  a  State,  but  how  a 
luxurious  State  is  to  be  created  ;  and  possibly  there  is  no  harm 
in  this,  for  in  such  a  State  we  shall  be  more  likely  to  see  how 
justice  and  injustice  grow  up.  I  am  certainly  of  opinion  that 
the  true  State,  and  that  which  may  be  said  to  be  a  healthy 
constitution,  is  the  one  which  I  have  described.  But  if  you 
would  like  to  see  the  inflamed  constitution,  there  is  no  objec- 
tion to  this.  For  I  suppose  that  many  will  be  dissatis- 
fied with  the  simpler  way  of  life.  They  will  be  for  add- 
ing  sofas,  and  tables,  and  other  furniture ;  also  dainties,  and 
perfumes,  and  incense,  and  courtesans,  and  cakes,  not  of  one 
sort  only,  but  in  profusion  and  variety ;  our  imagination 
must  not  be  limited  to  the  necessaries  of  which  I  was  at  first 
speaking,  such  as  houses,  and  clothes,  and  shoes ;  but  the  art 
of  the  painter  and  embroiderer  will  have  to  be  set  in  motion, 
and  gold  and  ivory  and  other  materials  of  art  will  be  re- 
quired. 

True,  he  said. 

Then  we  must  enlarge  our  borders ;  for  the  original  healthy 
State  is  too  small.  Now  will  the  city  have  to  fill  and  swell 
with  a  multitude  of  callings  which  go  beyond  what  is  required 
by  any  natural  want ;  such  as  the  whole  tribe  of  hunters  and 
actors  u  of  which  one  large  class  have  to  do  with  figures  and 
colors,  another  are  musicians ;  there  will  be  poets  and  their 
attendant  train  of  rhapsodists,15  players,  dancers,  contractors; 
also  makers  of  divers  kinds  of  utensils,  not  forgetting  women's 
ornaments.  And  we  shall  want  more  servants.  Will  not 
tutors  be  also  in  request,  and  nurses  wet  and  dry,  tirewomen 
and  barbers,  as  well  as  confectioners  and  cooks ;  and  swine- 
herds, too,  who  were  not  needed  and  therefore  not  included 
in  the  former  edition  of  our  State,  but  needed  in  this?     They 

14  Bosanquet  in  his  Companion  to  Plato's  Republic,  has  the  following  note : 
"  '  Hunters'  and  'imitators.'  (i)  The  predatory  classes,  including  lawyers, 
political  orators,  and  professional  teachers  (Sophists)  ;  and  (2)  those  who 
practice  the  arts  of  deception,  again  including  the  Sophist,  together  with  the 
sculptor,  painter,  musician,  poet,  and  here  apparently  those  who  have  to 
do  with  women's  toilet." 

15  See  Phaedrus,  note  62. 


2l8  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

must  not  be  forgotten  :  and  there  will  be  hosts  of  animals,  if 
people  are  to  eat  them. 

Certainly. 

And  living  in  this  way  we  shall  have  much  greater  need  of 
physicians  than  before? 

Much  greater. 

And  the  country  which  was  enough  to  support  the  original 
inhabitants  will  be  too  small  now,  and  not  enough? 

Quite  true. 

Then  a  slice  of  our  neighbor's  land  will  be  wanted  by  us  for 
pasture  and  tillage,  and  they  will  want  a  slice  of  ours,  if,  like 
ourselves,  they  exceed  the  limit  of  necessity,  and  give  them- 
selves up  to  the  unlimited  accumulation  of  wealth  ? 

That,  Socrates,  will  be  unavoidable. 

And  then  we  shall  go  to  war,  Glaucon, — that  will  be  the 
next  thing. 

So  we  shall,  he  replied. 

Then,  without  determining  as  yet  whether  war  does  good 
or  harm,  thus  much  we  may  affirm,  that  now  we  have  dis- 
covered war  to  be  derived  from  causes  which  are  also  the 
causes  of  almost  all  the  evils  in  States,  private  as  well  as  public. 

Undoubtedly. 

Then  our  State  must  once  more  enlarge ;  and  this  time  the 

enlargement  will  be  nothing  short  of  a  whole  army,  which 

will  have  to  go  out  and  fight  with  the  invaders  for  all 

that  we  have,  as  well  as  for  the  precious  souls  whom  we 

were  describing  above. 

Why?  he  said;  are  they  not  capable  of  defending  them- 
selves ? 

No,  I  said;  not  if  you  and  all  of  us  were  right  in  the  prin- 
ciple which  was  acknowledged  at  the  first  creation  of  the  State: 
that  principle  was,  as  you  will  remember,  that  one  man  could 
not  practice  many  arts. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

But  is  not  war  an  art  ? 

Certainly. 

And  an  art  requiring  as  much  attention  as  shoemaking? 

Quite  true. 

And  the  shoemaker  was  not  allowed  to  be  a  husbandman, 
or  a  weaver,  or  a  builder — in  order  that  we  might  have  our 
shoes  well  made :   but  to  him  and  to  every  other  worker  one 


THE   REPUBLIC  219 

work  was  assigned  by  us  for  which  he  was  fitted  by  nature, 
and  he  was  to  continue  working  all  his  life  long  at  that  and  at 
no  other,  and  not  to  let  opportunities  slip,  and  then  he  would 
become  a  good  workman.  And  is  there  any  more  important 
work  than  to  be  a  good  soldier?  But  is  war  an  art  so  easily 
acquired  that  a  man  may  be  a  warrior  who  is  also  a  husband- 
man, or  shoemaker,  or  other  artisan  ;  although  no  one  in  the 
world  would  be  a  good  dice  or  draught 16  player  who  merely 
took  up  the  game  as  a  recreation,  and  had  not  from  his  earliest 
years  devoted  himself  to  this  and  nothing  else  ?  The  mere 
handling  of  tools  will  not  make  a  man  a  skilled  workman,  or 
master  of  defense,  nor  be  of  any  use  to  him  who  knows  not 
the  nature  of  each,  and  has  never  bestowed  any  attention  upon 
them.  How  then  will  he  who  takes  up  a  shield  or  other 
implement  of  war  all  in  a  day  become  a  good  fighter,  whether 
with  heavy-armed  or  any  other  kind  of  troops? 

Yes,  he  said,  the  tools  which  would  teach  their  own  use 
would  be  of  rare  value. 

And  the  greater  the  business  of  the  guardian  is,  I  said,  the 
more  time,  and  art,  and  skill  will  be  needed  by  him? 

That  is  what  I  should  suppose,  he  replied. 

Will  he  not  also  require  natural  gifts  ? 

Certainly. 

We  shall  have  to  select  natures  which  are  suited  to  their 
task  of  guarding  the  city  ? 

That  will  be  our  duty. 

And  anything  but  an  easy  duty,  I  said ;  but  still  we  must 
endeavor  to  do  our  best  as  far  as  we  can  ? 

We  must. 

The  dog  is  a  watcher,  I  said,  and  the  guardian  is  also  a 
watcher;  and  regarding  them  in  this  point  of  view  only, 
is  not  the  noble  youth  very  like  a  well-bred  dog? 

How  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  that  both  of  them  ought  to  be  quick  to  observe,  and 
swift  to  overtake  the  enemy;  and  strong  too,  if,  when  they 
have  caught  him,  they  have  to  fight  with  him. 

All  these  qualities,  he  replied,  will  certainly  be  required. 

Well,  and  your  guardian  must  be  brave  if  he  is  to  fight  well? 

Certainly. 

And  is  he  likely  to  be  brave  who  has  no  spirit,  whether 

16  Draughts  :  a  game  similar  to  our  checkers. 


220  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

horse  or  dog  or  any  other  animal  ?  Did  you  never  observe 
how  the  presence  of  spirit  makes  the  soul  of  any  creature 
absolutely  fearless  and  invincible  ? 

Yes  ;  I  have  observed  that. 

Then  now  we  have  a  clear  idea  of  both  the  bodily  qualities 
which  are  required  in  the  guardian. 

True. 

And  also  of  the  mental  ones;  his  soul  is  to  be  full  of  spirit? 

Yes. 

But  then,  Glaucon,  those  spirited  natures  are  apt  to  be  furi- 
ous with  one  another,  and  with  everybody  else. 

That  is  a  difficulty,  he  replied. 

Whereas,  I  said,  they  ought  to  be  gentle  to  their  friends, 
and  dangerous  to  their  enemies  j  or,  instead  of  their  enemies 
destroying  them,  they  will  destroy  themselves. 

True,  he  said. 

What  is  to  be  done  then,  I  said  ?  how  shall  we  find  a  gentle 
nature  which  has  also  a  great  spirit,  for  they  seem  to  be  incon- 
sistent with  one  another  ? 

True. 

And  yet  he  will  not  be  a  good  guardian  who  is  wanting  in 
either  of  these  two  qualities  ;  and,  as  the  combination  of  them 
appears  to  be  impossible,  this  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  to  be 
a  good  guardian  is  also  impossible. 

I  am  afraid  that  is  true,  he  replied. 

Here  feeling  perplexed,  I  began  to  think  over  what  pre- 
ceded. My  friend,  I  said,  we  deserve  to  be  in  a  puzzle ;  for 
if  we  had  only  kept  the  simile  before  us,  the  perplexity  in 
which  we  are  entangled  would  never  have  arisen. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

I  mean  to  say  that  there  are  natures  gifted  with  those 
opposite  qualities,  the  combination  of  which  we  are  denying. 

And  where  do  you  find  them? 

Many  animals,  I  replied,  furnish  examples  of  them ;  our 
friend  the  dog  is  a  very  good  one  :  you  know  that  well-bred 
dogs  are  perfectly  gentle  to  their  familiars  and  acquaintances, 
and  the  reverse  to  strangers. 

I  know  that. 

Then  there  is  nothing  impossible  or  out  of  the  order  of 
nature  in  our  finding  a  guardian  who  has  a  similar  combination 
of  qualities? 


THE   REPUBLIC  221 

Certainly  not. 

Would  you  not  say  that  he  should  combine  with  the  spirited 
nature  the  qualities  of  a  philosopher? 

I  do  not  apprehend  your  meaning. 

The  trait  of  which  I  am  speaking,  I  replied,  may  be 
also  seen  in  the  dog,  and  is  very  remarkable  in  an  animal.       ' 

What  trait? 

Why  a  dog,  whenever  he  sees  a  stranger,  is  angry  j  when  an 
acquaintance,  he  welcomes  him,  although  the  one  has  never 
done  him  any  harm,  nor  the  other  any  good.  Did  this  never 
strike  you  as  curious  ? 

I  never  before  made  the  observation  myself,  though  I  quite 
recognize  the  truth  of  your  remark. 

And  surely  this  instinct  of  the  dog  is  very  charming, — your 
dog  is  a  true  philosopher. 

Why? 

Why,  because  he  distinguishes  the  face  of  a  friend  and  of  an 
enemy  only  by  the  criterion  of  knowing  and  not  knowing. 
And  must  not  the  creature  be  fond  of  learning  who  determines 
what  is  friendly  and  what  is  unfriendly  by  the  test  of  knowl- 
edge and  ignorance  ? 

Most  assuredly. 

And  is  not  the  love  of  learning  the  love  of  wisdom,  which 
is  philosophy  ? 

They  are  the  same,  he  replied. 

And  may  we  not  say  confidently  of  man  also,  that  he  who 
is  likely  to  be  gentle  to  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  must  by 
nature  be  a  lover  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ? 

That  we  may  safely  affirm. 

Then  he  who  is  to  be  a  really  good  and  noble  guardian  of 
the  State  will  require  to  unite  in  himself  philosophy  and  spirit 
and  swiftness  and  strength? 

Undoubtedly. 

Then  we  have  found  the  desired  natures;  and  now  that  we 
have  found  them,  how  are  they  to  be  reared  and  educated  ? 
Is  this  an  inquiry  which  may  be  fairly  expected  to  throw  light 
on  the  greater  inquiry  which  is  our  final  end — How  do  justice 
and  injustice  grow  up  in  States  ?  for  we  do  not  want  to  admit 
anything  which  is  superfluous,  or  leave  out  anything  which  is 
really  to  the  point. 

Adeimantus  thought  that  the  inquiry  would  be  of  use  to  us. 


222  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Then,  I  said,  my  dear  friend,  the  task  must  not  be  given  up, 
even  if  somewhat  long. 

Certainly  not. 

Come  then,  and  like  story-tellers,  let  us  be  at  leisure,  and 
our  story  shall  be  the  education  of  our  heroes. 

By  all  means. 

And  what  shall  be  their  education  ?  Can  we  find  a  better 
than  the  old-fashioned  sort  ? — and  this  has  two  divisions,  gym- 
nastic for  the  body,  and  music  17  for  the  soul. 

True. 

Music  is  taught  first,  and  gymnastic  afterwards? 

Certainly. 

And  when  you  speak  of  music,  do  you  rank  literature  under 
music  or  not? 

I  do. 

And  literature  mav  be  either  true  or  false? 

Yes. 

And  the  young  are  trained  in  both  kinds,  and  in  the 
378    false  before  the  true  ? 

I  do  not  understand  your  meaning,  he  said. 

You  know,  I  said,  that  we  begin  by  telling  children  stories, 
which,  though  not  wholly  destitute  of  truth,  are  in  the  main 
fictitious;  and  these  stories  are  told  them  when  they  are  not 
of  an  age  to  learn  gymnastics. 

Very  true. 

That  was  my  meaning  in  saying  that  we  must  teach  music 
before  gymnastics. 

17  "  Music  to  the  ancients  had  a  far  wider  significance  than  it  has  to  us.  It 
was  opposed  to  gymnastic  as  '  mental '  to  '  bodily  '  training,  and  included 
equally  reading  and  writing,  mathematics,  harmony,  poetry,  and  music 
strictly  speaking." — Jowett,  3d  ed.,  v.,  p.  474. 

"  The  word  music  is  not  to  be  judged  according  to  the  limited  signification 
which  it  now  bears.  It  comprehended  from  the  beginning  everything  ap- 
pertaining to  the  province  of  the  Nine  Muses — not  merely  learning  the  use 
of  the  lyre,  or  how  to  bear  part  in  a  chorus,  but  also  the  hearing,  learning, 
and  repeating  of  poetical  compositions,  as  well  as  the  practice  of  exact  and 
elegant  pronunciation.  .  .  .  As  the  range  of  ideas  enlarged,  so  the  word 
music  and  musical  teacher  acquired  an  expanded  meaning,  so  as  to  compre- 
hend matter  of  instruction  at  once  ampler  and  more  diversified.  During 
the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.  at  Athens,  there  came  thus  to  be  found 
among  the  musical  teachers,  men  of  the  most  distinguished  abilities  and  emi- 
nence ;  masters  of  all  the  learning  and  accomplishments  of  the  age,  teaching 
what  was.known  of  astronomy,  geography,  and  physics,  and  capable  of  hold- 
ing dialectical  discussions  with  their  pupils  upon  all  the  various  problems 
then  afloat  among  intellectual  men." — Grote's  History  of  Greece,  III.,  chap, 
lxvii. 


THE   REPUBLIC  223 

Quite  right,  he  said. 

You  know  also  that  the  beginning  is  the  chiefest  part  of  any 
work,  especially  in  a  young  and  tender  thing ;  for  that  is  the 
time  at  which  the  character  is  formed  and  most  readily  re- 
ceives the  desired  impression. 

Quite  true. 

And  shall  we  just  carelessly  allow  children  to  hear  any 
casual  tales  which  may  be  framed  by  casual  persons,  and  to 
receive  into  their  minds  notions  which  are  the  very  opposite 
of  those  which  are  to  be  held  by  them  when  they  are  grown 
up? 

We  cannot  allow  that. 

Then  the  first  thing  will  be  to  have  a  censorship  of  the 
writers  of  fiction,  and  let  the  censors  receive  any  tale  of  fiction 
which  is  good,  and  reject  the  bad;  and  we  will  desire  mothers 
and  nurses  to  tell  their  children  the  authorized  ones  only. 
Let  them  fashion  the  mind  with  these  tales,  and  not  the  tender 
frame  with  the  hands  only.  At  the  same  time,  most  of  those 
which  are  now  in  use  will  have  to  be  discarded. 

Of  what  tales  are  you  speaking?  he  said. 

You  may  find  a  model  of  the  lesser  in  the  greater,  I  said ; 
for  they  are  necessarily  cast  in  the  same  mould,  and  there  is 
the  same  spirit  in  both  of  them. 

That  may  be  very  true,  he  replied  ;  but  I  don't  as  yet  know 
what  you  would  term  the  greater. 

Those,  I  said,  which  are  narrated  by  Homer  and  Hesiod, 
and  the  rest  of  the  poets,  who  have  ever  been  the  great  story- 
tellers of  mankind. 

But  which  are  the  stories  that  you  mean,  he  said ;  and  what 
fault  do  you  find  with  them  ? 

A  fault  which  is  most  serious,  I  said ;  the  fault  of  telling  a 
lie,  and  a  bad  lie. 

But  when  is  this  fault  committed  ? 

Whenever  an  erroneous  representation  is  made  of  the  nature 
of  gods  and  heroes, — like  the  drawing  of  a  limner  which  has 
not  the  shadow  of  a  likeness  to  the  truth. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  sort  of  thing  is  certainly  very  blamable  ; 
but  what  are  the  stories  which  you  mean  ? 

[Socrates  gives  examples  of  what  he  regards  as  objectionable 
mythology  for  the  young.     He  condemns  the  tales  in  which 


224  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

the  gods  are  represented  as  committing  outrageous  crimes  or 
as  quarreling  and  fighting  among  themselves,  on  the  ground 
that  they  would  lead  the  young  man  to  believe  that  quarrel- 
ing is  honorable  and  holy,  and  that  in  committing  the  worst 
of  crimes  he  is  only  following  the  example  of  the  greatest 
among  the  gods.     He  says:] 

Such  tales  must  not  be  admitted  into  our  State,  whether 
they  are  supposed  to  have  an  allegorical  meaning  or  not.  For 
the  young  man  cannot  judge  what  is  allegorical  and  what  is 
literal,  and  anything  that  he  receives  into  his  mind  at  that  age 
is  apt  to  become  indelible  and  unalterable ;  and  therefore 
the  tales  which  they  first  hear  should  be  models  of  virtuous 
thoughts. 

There  you  are  right,  he  replied  ;  that  is  quite  essential : 
but,  then,  where  are  such  models  to  be  found?  and  what  are 
the  tales  in  which  they  are  contained  ?  when  that  question  is 
asked,  what  will  be  our  answer? 

I  said  to  him,  You  and  I,  Adeimantus,  are  not  poets  in 
what  we  are  about  just  now,  but  founders  of  a  State  :  now  the 
founders  of  a  State  ought  to  know  the  general  forms  in 
which  poets  should  cast  their  tales,  and  the  limits  which 
should  be  observed  by  them,  but  they  are  not  bound  them- 
selves to  make  the  tales. 

That  is  true,  he  said  ;  but  what  are  these  forms  of  theology 18 
which  you  mean  ? 

[The  first  rule  to  which  Socrates  would  require  all  kinds  of 
poetry  to  conform  is,  "  God  is  always  to  be  represented  as  he 
truly  is."  The  question  then  arises,  what  is  the  nature  of 
God  ?  Adeimantus  agrees  with  Socrates  that  God  is  truly 
good  and  therefore  cannot  be  the  cause  of  evil.  Socrates 
continues :] 

Then  God,  if  he  be  good,  is  not  the  author  of  all  things, 
as  the  many  assert,  but  he  is  the  cause  of  a  few  things  only, 
and  not  of  most  things  that  occur  to  men ;  for  few  are  the 
goods  of  human  life,  and  many  are  the  evils,  and  the  good 
only  is  to  be  attributed  to  him  :  of  the  evil  other  causes  have 
to  be  discovered. 

18  In  this  case  theology  means  poetic  representations  of  the  gods. 


THE   REPUBLIC  225 

That  appears  to  me  to  be  most  true,  he  said. 
Then  we  must  not  listen  to  Homer  or  any  other  poet  who 
is  guilty  of  the  folly  of  saying  that — 

"  At  the  threshold  of  Zeus  lie  two  casks  full  of  lots,  one  of  good,  the 
other  of  evil ;  " 

and  that  he  to  whom  Zeus  gives  a  mixture  of  the  two — 

"  Sometimes  meets  with  good,  at  other  times  with  evil  fortune;  " 

but  that  he  to  whom  is  given  the  cup  of  unmingled  ill, — 

"  Him  wild  hunger  drives  over  the  divine  earth." 

And  again — 

"  Zeus,  who  is  the  dispenser  of  good  and  evil  to  us." 

.     .     .     Neither  will  we  allow  our  young  men  to  hear 
the  words  of  ^Eschylus,  when  he  says,  that  ' '  God  plants  38°" 
guilt  among  men  when  he  desires  utterly  to  destroy  a     3 
house." 

[Only  that  evil  which  comes  as  a  just  punishment  to  the 
wicked  and  by  which  they  are  benefited,  may  be  attributed  to 
God.] 

But  that  God  being  good  is  the  author  of  evil  to  any  one, 
that  is  to  be  strenuously  denied,  and  not  allowed  to  be  sung 
or  said  in  any  well-ordered  commonwealth  by  old  or  young. 
Such  a  fiction  is  suicidal,  ruinous,  impious. 

I  agree  with  you,  he  replied,  about  this  law,  and  am  ready 
to  give  my  assent. 

Let  this  then  be  one  of  the  rules  of  recitation  and  inven- 
tion,— that  God  is  not  the  author  of  evil,  but  of  good  only. 

That  will  do,  he  said. 

And  what  do  you  think  of  another  principle?  Shall  I  ask 
you  whether  God  is  a  magician,  that  he  should  appear  insid- 
iously now  in  one  shape,  and  now  in  another — sometimes 
himself  changing  and  becoming  different  in  form,  sometimes 
deceiving  us  with  the  appearance  of  such  transformations  ;  or 
is  he  one  and  the  same,  immutably  fixed  in  his  own  proper 
image  ? 

15 


226  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

[Adeimantus  agrees  that  God  cannot  be  changed  by  any 
external  influence,  and  that  he  will  not  wish  to  change  himself, 
for  he  is  already  perfect  in  virtue  and  beauty.] 

Then,  I  said,  my  dear  friend,  let  none  of  the  poets  tell  us 
that 

"The  gods,  in  the  disguise  of  strangers,  prowl  about  cities,  ha\ing 
diverse  forms ;  " 

and  let  no  one  slander  Proteus  19  and  Thetis,20  neither  let  any 
one  either  in  tragedy  or  any  other  kind  of  poetry,  introduce 
Here  disguised  in  the  likeness  of  a  priestess, — 

"Asking  an  alms  for  the  life-giving  daughters  of  the  river  Inachus  ;  "  » 

let  us  have  no  more  lies  of  that  sort.  Neither  must  we  have 
mothers  under  the  influence  of  the  poets  scaring  their  children 
with  abominable  tales — 

"  Of  certain  gods  who  go  about  by  night  in  the  likeness,  as  is  said,  of 
strangers  from  every  land ;  " 

let  them  beware  lest  they  blaspheme  against  the  gods,  and  at 
the  same  time  make  cowards  of  their  children. 

That  ought  certainly  to  be  prohibited,  he  said. 

But  still  you  may  say  that  although  God  is  himself  un- 
changeable, he  may  take  various  forms  in  order  to  bewitch 
and  deceive  us. 

Suppose  that,  he  replied. 

Well,  but  can  you  imagine  that  God  will  be  willing  to  lie, 
whether  in  word  or  action,  by  making  a  false  representation 

s  m  of  himself? 
f g,=  I  cannot  say,  he  replied. 

[Adeimantus  is  made  to  see  that  "  the  superhuman  and  divine 
is  absolutely  incapable  of  falsehood  "  and  agrees  with  Socrates 
that  "  God  is  perfectly  simple  and  true  both  in  deed  and 
word ;  he  changes  not ;  he  deceives  not,  either  by  dream  or 
waking  vision,  by  sign  or  word." 

The  second  rule  then  to  which  the  poets  must  conform  is 
that  God  is  true.] 

19  See  Euthydemus,  note  19. 

30  Thetis  (the'tis):  a  sea-nymph,  who,  like  Proteus,  had  the  power  of  assum- 
ing any  form. 
81  Inachus  (f'n-a-kus). 


THE   REPUBLIC  227 


BOOK   III 

Such  then,  I  said,  are  our  principles  of  theology — some 
tales  are  to  be  told,  and  others  are  not  to  be  told  to  our  dis- 
ciples from  their  youth  upwards,  if  we  mean  them  to 
honor  the  gods  and  their  parents,  and  to  value  friend-  3^£ " 
ship  with  one  another.  3  7 

Yes  ;  and  I  think  that  our  principles  are  right,  he  said. 

Well,  I  said,  and  if  they  are  to  be  courageous,  must  they 
not  learn,  besides  these,  other  lessons  also,  such  as  will  have 
thi  effect  of  taking  away  the  fear  of  death  ?  Can  any  man 
be  courageous  who  has  the  fear  of  death  in  him  ? 

Certainly  not,  he  said. 

And  can  he  be  fearless  of  death,  or  will  he  choose  death  in 
battle  rather  than  defeat  and  slavery,  who  believes  in  the  real- 
ity and  the  terror  of  the  world  below  ?  1 

Impossible. 

Then  we  must  assume  a  control  over  this  class  of  tales  as 
well  as  over  the  others  and  beg  the  relators  of  them  not  sim- 
ply to  revile,  but  rather  to  commend  the  world  below. 

[We  must  destroy  such  passages  as  the  one  in  Homer  where 
he  attributes  to  the  shade  of  Achilles  in  Hades  these  words: 
"I  would  rather  be  a  serf  on  the  land  of  a  poor  and  por- 
tionless man  than  rule  over  all  the  dead  who  have  come  to 
naught ;  "  and  such  verses  as  "  He  feared  lest  the  mansions 
grim  and  squalid  which  the  gods  abhor  should  be  seen  of 
mortals  and  immortals."] 

And  we  must  beg  Homer  and  the  other  poets  not  to  be 
angry  if  we  strike  out  these  and  similar  passages,  not  be- 
cause they  are  unpoetical,  or  unattractive  to  the  popular  ear, 
but  because  the  greater  the  charm  of  them  as  poetry,  the  less 
are  they  meet  for  the  ears  of  boys  and  men  who  are  to  be  sons 
of  freedom,  and  are  to  fear  slavery  more  than  death. 

Undoubtedly. 

Also  we  shall  have  to  reject  all  the  terrible  and  appalling 

1  See  Apology,  note  23. 


226  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

names  which  describe  the  world  below — Cocytus  and  Styx,2 
ghosts  under  the  earth,  and  sapless  shades,  and  any  other  words 
of  the  same  type,  the  very  mention  of  which  causes  a  shudder 
to  pass  through  the  inmost  soul  of  him  who  hears  them.  I  do 
not  say  that  these  tales  may  not  have  a  use  of  some  kind  ;  but 
there  is  a  danger  that  the  nerves  of  our  guardians  may  become 
affected  by  them. 

[The  youth  must  learn  to  endure  calmly  any  misfortune 
which  may  befall,  even  the  death  of  relative  or  friend.] 

Reflect :  our  principle  is  that  the  good  man  will  not  con- 
sider death  terrible  to  a  good  man. 

Yes;  that  is  our  principle. 

And  therefore  he  will  not  sorrow  for  his  departed  friend  as 
though  he  had  suffered  anything  terrible  ? 

He  will  not. 

Such  an  one,  as  we  further  maintain,  is  enough  for  himself 
and  his  own  happiness,  and  therefore  is  least  in  need  of  other 
men. 

True,  he  said. 

And  for  this  reason  the  loss  of  a  son  or  brother,  or  the  dep- 
rivation of  fortune,  is  to  him  of  all  men  least  terrible. 

Assuredly. 

And  therefore  he  will  be  least  likely  to  lament,  and  will 
bear  with  the  greatest  equanimity  any  misfortune  of  this  sort 
which  may  befall  him. 

Yes,  he  will  feel  such  a  misfortune  less  than  another. 

Then  we  shall  be  right  in  getting  rid  of  the  lamentations  of 

famous  men,  and  making  them  over  to  women  (and  not  even 

to  women  who  are  good  for  anything),  or  to  men  of  a 

38°-  baser  sort,  that  those  who  are  being  educated  by  us  to 

be  the  defenders  of  their  country  may  scorn  to  do  the 

like. 

We  shall  be  very  right. 

Then  we  will  once  more  entreat  Homer  and  the  other  poets 
not  to  depict  Achilles,  who  is  the  son  of  a  goddess,3  as  first 
lying  on  his  side,  then  on  his  back,  and  then  on  his  face ;   then 

2  Cocytus  (co-sy'tus) :  the  River  of  Wailing.  Styx  (styx) :  the  Hateful. 
Both  according  to  myth,  rivers  of  the  world  below. 

3  See  Apology,  note  21. 


THE   REPUBLIC  229 

starting  up  again  in  a  frenzy  and  in  full  sail  upon  the  shores  of 
the  barren  sea,  nor  again  taking  the  dusky  ashes  in  both  his 
hands  and  pouring  them  over  his  head,  or  bewailing  and  sor- 
rowing in  the  various  modes  which  Homer  has  delineated.  Nor 
should  he  describe  Priam,4  the  kinsman  of  the  gods, — 

"  Rolling  in  the  dirt,  calling  each  man  loudly  by  his  name." 

[Still  less  should  the  gods  themselves  be  introduced  wailing 
over  sorrows  and  woes.] 

For  if,  my  sweet  Adeimantus,  our  youth  seriously  believe 
in  such  unworthy  representations  of  the  gods,  instead  of  laugh- 
ing at  them  as  they  ought,  hardly  will  any  of  them  deem  that 
he  himself,  being  but  a  man,  can  be  dishonored  by  similar  ac- 
tions ;  neither  will  he  rebuke  any  inclination  that  may  arise 
in  his  mind  to  say  and  do  the  like.  And  instead  of  having 
any  shame  or  self-control,  he  will  be  always  whining  and 
lamenting  on  slight  occasions. 

[Our  guardians  ought  not  to  indulge  in  excessive  laughter 
which  almost  always  produces  a  violent  reaction.  We  should 
therefore  not  suffer  Homer  to  say  in  describing  a  feast  of  the 
gods, 

"  Inextinguishable  laughter  rose  among  the  blessed  gods." 

Truth  must  be  highly  valued  by  the  youth,  for  lying  among 
the  citizens  is  a  practice  destructive  of  the  State. 

The  youth  must  be  temperate.  The  chief  elements  of  tem- 
perance are,  in  general,  obedience  to  commanders  and  self- 
control  in  sensual  pleasures.  Therefore  Socrates  approves  such 
words  in  Homer  as 

"  The  Greeks  marched  breathing  prowess, 
In  silent  awe  of  their  leaders." 

But  he  condemns  the  line 

"  Oh  heavy  with  wine,  who  hast  the  eyes  of  a  dog  and  the  heart  of  a 
stag." 

Nor  should  the  poets'  praises  of  eating  and  drinking  and  of 
lower  forms  of  pleasure  be  repeated  to  the  young.     Instead, 

4  Priam,  king  of  Troy,  was  said  to  be  descended  from  Zeus. 


230  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

they  should  hear  of  the  endurance  of  famous  men,  for  exam- 
ple : 

"  He  smote  his  breast  and  thus  reproached  his  soul, 
Endure,  my  soul,  thou  hast  endured  worse." 

The  youth  must  not  receive  bribes  or  be  lovers  of  money.    So 
the  poets  must  not  be  allowed  to  sing  of 

"Gifts  persuading  gods,  persuading  reverend  kings." 

In  short,  all  examples  of  ignoble  action,  of  insolence,  of 
cruelty,  of  crime,  or  of  impiety  on  the  part  of  the  gods  or  the 
children  of  the  gods,  we  must  equally  refuse  to  believe  or  allow 
to  be  repeated.     Socrates  says  of  the  poets  :  ] 

We  will  not  have  them  teaching  our  youth  that  the  gods 
are  the  authors  of  evil,  and  that  heroes  are  no  better  than  men  ; 
for,  as  we  were  saying,  these  sentiments  are  neither  pious  nor 
true,  being  at  variance  with  our  demonstration  that  evil  can- 
not come  from  God.  Also  they  are  likely  to  have  a  bad  ef- 
fect on  those  who  hear  them ;  for  everybody  will  begin  to 
excuse  his  own  vices  when  he  is  convinced  that  similar  wick- 
ednesses are  always  being  perpetrated  by  the  kindred  of  the 
gods, — 

"The  relatives  of  Zeus,  whose  paternal  altar  is  in  the  heavens  and  on 
the  mount  of  Ida,"  5 

and  who  have — 

"  The  blood  of  deity  yet  flowing  in  their  veins." 

And  therefore  let  us  put  an  end  to  such  tales,  lest  they  engen- 
der laxity  of  morals  among  the  young. 

[The  poets  must  not  be  allowed  to  lie  about  men  any  more 
than  about  gods  and  demigods,  or  the  shades  below.] 

Because,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  shall  have  to  say  that 
poets  and  story-tellers  make  the  gravest  misstatements  about 
men  when  they  say  that  many  wicked  men  are  happy,  and 
good  men  miserable ;  and  we  shall  forbid  them  to  utter  these 
things,  and  command  them  to  sing  and  say  the  opposite. 

6  A  mountain  in  Asia  Minor,  sacred  to  Zeus. 


THE   REPUBLIC  23 1 

[Thus  far  Socrates  has  discussed  the  subject  matter  of  poetry. 
He  now  turns  to  style.  All  poetry  and  mythology  he  claims 
to  be  a  narration  of  events  past,  present,  or  to  come.  Narra- 
tion may  take  one  of  three  forms,  simple  narration,  imitation, 
or  a  union  of  the  two.  We  have  simple  narration  where  the 
poet  speaks  always  in  his  own  person  and  never  leads  us  to 
suppose  that  he  is  any  one  else.  We  have  imitation  where 
the  poet  speaks  in  the  person  of  another,  as  in  tragedy  and 
comedy.  The  poet  here  imitates  the  persons  whose  charac- 
ters he  assumes.  We  may  have  a  combination  of  simple  narra- 
tion and  imitation,  as  in  the  epic. 

Socrates  now  asks  this  question,  "  Are  the  poets  in  narrating 
their  stories  to  be  allowed  to  imitate  in  whole  or  in  part,  or 
should  all  imitation  be  prohibited?"  The  answer  to  this 
question  depends  upon  the  answer  to  a  second  question, 
"  Ought  our  guardians  to  be  imitators?"  Socrates  thinks 
the  latter  question  has  already  been  answered.  The  rule  has 
been  laid  down  that  one  man  can  only  do  one  thing  well  and 
not  many.  This  is  equally  true  of  imitation  ;  no  man  can 
imitate  many  things  as  well  as  he  would  imitate  a  single 
one.  Still  less  can  one  person  "  play  the  serious  part  of  life, 
and  at  the  same  time  be  an  imitator  and  imitate 6  many  other 
parts  as  well."     Socrates  continues  :  ] 

If  then  we  would  retain  the  notion  with  which  we  began, 
that  our  guardians  are  to  be  released  from  every  other  art,  and 
to  be  the  special  artificers  of  freedom,  and  to  minister  to  this 
and  no  other  end,  they  ought  not  to  practice  or  imitate  any- 
thing else  ;  and,  if  they  imitate  at  all,  they  should  imitate  the 
characters  which  are  suitable  to  their  profession — the  tem- 
perate, holy,  free,  courageous,  and  the  like ;  but  they  should 
not  depict  or  be  able  to  imitate  any  kind  of  illiberality  or 
other  baseness,  lest  from  imitation  they  should  come  to  be 
what  they  imitate.  Did  you  never  observe  how  imitations, 
beginning  in  early  youth,  at  last  sink  into  the  constitution 
and  become  a  second  nature  of  body,  voice,  and  mind  ? 

For  this  reason  there  is  one  sort  of  narration  which  may  be 
used  or  spoken  by  a  truly  good  man,  and  there  is  another  sort 

6  Since  the  study  of  poetry  involved  the  singing  and  reciting  of  it,  the 
style  had  more  effect  on  the  student  than  in  the  simple  reading  to  one's 
self. 


232  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

which  will  be  exclusively  adapted  to  a  man  of  another  charac- 
ter and  education. 

And  which  are  these  two  sorts  ?  he  asked. 

Suppose,  I  answered,  that  a  just  and  good  man  in  the  course 
of  narration  comes  on  some  saying  or  action  of  another  good 
man, — I  should  imagine  that  he  will  like  to  impersonate  him, 
and  will  not  be  ashamed  of  this  sort  of  imitation  ;  he  will  be 
most  ready  to  play  the  part  of  the  good  man  when  he  is  acting 
firmly  and  wisely  j  in  a  less  degree  when  his  steps'falter.  owing 
to  sickness  or  love,  or  again  from  intoxication  or  any  other  mis- 
hap. But  when  he  comes  to  a  character  which  is  unworthy  of 
him,  he  will  not  make  a  study  of  that ;  he  will  disdain  to  wear 
the  likeness  of  his  inferiors,  unless  indeed  during  some  brief 
interval  when  they  may  be  doing  any  good  ;  at  other  times  he 
will  be  ashamed  to  play  a  part  which  he  has  never  practiced, 
nor  will  he  like  to  fashion  and  frame  himself  after  the  baser 
models  ;  he  feels  that  this  would  be  beneath  him,  when  carried 
beyond  a  pastime. 

[The  simplicity  of  that  style  of  writing  which  is  largely  nar- 
ration with  no  imitation  or  at  least  only  the  imitation  of  virt- 
ue,   is  best  suited  to  the  simplicity  of  the  ideal  state 
7     where  one  man  plays  but  one  part.   Socrates  continues  :] 

And  therefore  when  any  one  of  these  clever  multiform  gen- 
tlemen, who  can  imitate  anything,  comes  to  our  State,  and  pro- 
poses to  exhibit  himself  and  his  poetry,  we  will  fall  down 
]?q0"  and  worship  him  as  a  sweet  and  holy  and  wonderful  be- 
ing; but  we  must  also  inform  him  that  there  is  no  place 
for  such  as  he  is  in  our  State, — the  law  will  not  allow  them. 
And  so  when  we  have  anointed  him  with  myrrh,  and  set  a 
garland  of  wool  upon  his  head,  we  shall  send  him  away  to 
another  city.  For  we  mean  to  employ  for  our  souls'  health 
the  rougher  and  severer  poet  and  story-teller,  who  will  imitate 
the  style  of  the  virtuous  only,  and  will  follow  those  models 
which  we  prescribed  at  first  when  we  began  to  speak  of  the 
education  of  our  soldiers. 

[Having  discussed  both  the  subject  matter  and  style  of  myth 
and  poetry,  Socrates  turns  next  to  song.  The  song  or  ode  he 
says,  has  three  parts,  the  words,  the  melody,  and  the  rhythm. 


THE   REPUBLIC  233 

"  As  for  the  words,  there  will  be  no  difference  between  words 
that  are  and  are  not  set  to  music ;  both  will  conform  to  the 
same  laws,  and  these  have  been  already  determined  by  us." 

Now  the  melody  or  harmony  and  the  rhythm  will  depend 
upon  the  words.  Harmony  is  first  considered.  As  lamenta- 
tions and  strains  of  sorrow  were  forbidden,  so  harmonies  which 
are  expressive  of  sorrow  must  be  banished.  Likewise  since 
the  guardians  must  be  temperate  and  not  hear  examples  of 
drunkenness  and  indolence  in  poetry  or  song,  drinking  melo- 
dies must  be  banished.  There  are  two  kinds  of  harmony 
which  Socrates  would  allow.      He  says  :  ] 

I  want  to  have  one  warlike,  which  will  sound  the  word  or 
note  which  a  brave  man  utters  in  the  hour  of  danger  and  stern 
resolve,  or  when  his  cause  is  failing  and  he  is  going  to  wounds 
or  death  or  is  overtaken  by  some  other  evil,  and  at  every  such 
crisis  meets  fortune  with  calmness  and  endurance  ;  and  another 
which  may  be  used  by  him  in  times  of  peace  and  freedom  of 
action,  when  there  is  no  pressure  of  necessity — expressive  of 
entreaty  or  persuasion,  of  prayer  to  God,  or  instruction  of 
man,  or  again,  of  willingness  to  listen  to  persuasion  or  entreaty 
and  advice ;  and  which  represents  him  when  he  has  accom- 
plished his  aim,  not  carried  away  by  success,  but  acting  mod- 
erately and  wisely  and  acquiescing  in  the  event.  These  two 
harmonies  I  ask  you  to  leave  ;  the  strain  of  necessity  and  the 
strain  of  freedom,  the  strain  of  the  unfortunate  and  the  strain 
of  the  fortunate,  the  strain  of  courage,  and  the  strain  of  tem- 
perance ;  these,  I  say,  leave. 

[As  the  harmonies  which  Socrates  permits  are  very  simple 
and  do  not  require  multiplicity  of  notes  or  a  complex  scale, 
there  is  no  need  for  complex  musical  instruments.  He  would 
allow  only  the  lyre  and  harp  in  the  city  and  the  shepherd's 
pipe  in  the  country. 

Rhythm  is  next  considered.  Here  as  everywhere  the  an- 
swer to  the  question  what  shall  be  permitted,  must  be  de- 
termined by  the  end  of  education.  "  We  ought  not  to  have 
complex  or  manifold  systems  of  metre,  but  rather  to  discover 
what  rhythms  are  the  expressions  of  a  courageous  and  har- 
monious life  ;  and  the  words  should  come  first  and  the  rhythms 
should  be  adapted  to  them."     For,  Socrates  says:] 


234  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Our  principle  is  that  rhythm  and  harmony  are  regulated  by 
the  words,  and  not  the  words  by  them. 

Certainly,  he  said,  they  should  follow  the  words. 

And  the  words  and  the  character  of  the  style  should  depend 
on  the  temper  of  the  soul  ? 

Yes. 

And  everything  else  on  the  words  ? 

Yes. 

Then  good  language  and  harmony  and  grace  and  rhythm 
depend  on  simplicity, — I  mean  the  simplicity  of  a  truly  and 
nobly  ordered  mind,  not  that  other  simplicity  which  is  only  a 
euphemism  for  folly  ? 

Very  true,  he  replied. 

And  if  our  youth  are  to  do  their  work  in  life,  must  they  not 
make  these  their  perpetual  aim  ? 

They  must. 

And  all  life  is  full  of  them,  as  well  as  every  creative  and 
constructive  art  j  the  art  of  painting,  weaving  and  embroid- 
ery, and  building,  and  the  manufacture  of  vessels,  as  well 
as  the  frames  of  animals  and  of  plants  ;  in  all  of  them 
there  is  grace  or  the  absence  of  grace.  And  absence  of  grace 
and  inharmonious  movement  and  discord  are  nearly  allied  to 
ill  words  and  ill  nature,  as  grace  and  harmony  are  the  sisters 
and  images  of  goodness  and  virtue. 

That  is  quite  true,  he  said. 

But  is  our  superintendence  to  go  no  further,  and  are  the 
poets  only  to  be  required  by  us  to  impress  a  good  moral  on 
their  poems  as  the  condition  of  writing  poetry  in  our  State? 
Or  is  the  same  control  to  be  exercised  over  other  artists,  and 
are  they  also  to  be  prohibited  from  exhibiting  the  opposite  forms 
of  vice  and  intemperance  and  meanness  and  indecency  in  sculpt- 
ure and  building  and  the  other  creative  arts ;  and  is  he  who  does 
not  conform  to  this  rule  of  ours  to  be  prohibited  from  practicing 
his  art  in  our  State,  lest  the  taste  of  our  citizens  be  corrupted 
by  him  ?  We  would  not  have  our  guardians  grow  up  amid 
images  of  moral  deformity,  as  in  some  noxious  pasture,  and 
there  browse  and  feed  upon  many  a  baneful  herb  and  flower 
day  by  day,  little  by  little,  until  they  silently  gather  a  fester- 
ing mass  of  corruption  in  their  own  soul.  Let  our  artists 
rather  be  those  who  are  gifted  to  discern  the  true  nature  of 
beauty  and  grace  ;  then  will  our  youth  dwell  in  a  land  of 


THE  REPUBLIC  235 

health,  amid  fair  sights  and  sounds  j  and  beauty,  the  effluence 
of  fair  works,  will  meet  the  sense  like  a  breeze,  and  insensibly 
draw  the  soul  even  in  childhood  into  harmony  with  the  beauty 
of  reason. 

There  can  be  no  nobler  training  than  that,  he  replied. 

Is  not  this,  I  said,  the  reason,  Glaucon,  why  musical  train- 
ing is  so  powerful,  because  rhythm  and  harmony  find  their  way 
into  the  secret  places  of  the  soul,  on  which  they  mightily  fasten, 
bearing  grace  in  their  movements,  and  making  the  soul  grace- 
ful of  him  who  is  rightly  educated,  or  ungraceful  if  ill-edu- 
cated ;  and  also  because  he  who  has  received  this  true  education 
of  the  inner  being  will  most  shrewdly  perceive  omissions  or 
faults  in  art  and  nature,  and  with  a  true  taste,  while  he  praises 
and  rejoices  over,  and  receives  into  his  soul  the  good, 
and  becomes  noble  and  good,  he  will  justly  blame  and  jZ\ 
hate  the  bad,  now  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  even  before 
he  is  able  to  know  the  reason  of  the  thing ;  and  when  reason 
comes  he  will  recognize  and  salute  her  as  a  friend  with  whom 
his  education  has  made  him  long  familiar. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  quite  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  these 
are  the  reasons  why  there  should  be  a  musical  education. 

Just  as  in  learning  to  read,  I  said,  we  want  to  know  the 
various  letters  in  all  their  recurring  sizes  and  combinations; 
not  slighting  them  as  unimportant  whether  they  be  large  or 
small,  but  everywhere  eager  to  make  them  out ;  and  are  not 
supposed  to  be  perfect  in  the  art  until  we  recognize  them 
wherever  they  are  found  : 

True— 

Or,  as  we  recognize  the  reflection  of  letters  in  the  water,  or 
in  a  mirror,  only  when  we  know  the  letters  themselves ;  the 
same  art  giving  us  the  knowledge  of  both  : 

Exactly — 

Even  so,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  neither  we  nor 
our  guardians,  whom  we  have  to  educate,  can  ever  become 
musical  until  we  know  the  essential  forms  of  temperance, 
courage,  liberality,  magnificence,  as  well  as  the  cognate  and 
contrary  forms,  in  all  their  combinations,  and  can  recognize 
them  and  their  images  wherever  they  are  found,  not  slighting 
them  either  in  small  things  or  great,  but  believing  them  all  to 
be  within  the  sphere  of  one  art  and  study. 

Most  assuredly. 


2$6  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

And  when  a  beautiful  soul  harmonizes  with  a  beautiful  form, 
and  the  two  are  cast  in  one  mould,  that  will  be  the  fairest  of 
sights  to  him  who  has  the  eye  to  contemplate  the  vision  ? 

The  fairest  indeed. 

And  the  fairest  are  also  the  loveliest  ? 

That  may  be  assumed. 

And  the  man  who  has  music  in  his  soul  will  be  most  in  love 
with  the  loveliest ;  but  if  they  are  inharmonious  in  soul  he 
will  not  love  them  ? 

That  is  true,  he  replied,  if  the  deformity  be  in  the  soul,  but 
any  merely  personal  defect  he  will  be  willing  to  regard  with 
complacency. 

Thus  much  then  is  said  of  music  which  makes  a  fair  end- 
ing, for  what  should  be  the  end  of  music  if  not  the  love  of 
beauty  ? 

I  agree,  he  said. 

After  music  comes  gymnastic,7  in  which  our  youth  are  next 
to  be  trained. 

Certainly. 

And  gymnastic  as  well  as  music  should  receive  careful  at- 
tention in  childhood,  and  continue  through  life.  Now  my 
belief  is, — and  this  is  a  matter  upon  which  I  should  like  to 
have  your  opinion,  but  my  own  belief  is, — not  that  the  good 
body  improves  the  soul,  but  that  the  good  soul  improves  the 
body.    What  do  you  say  ? 

Yes,  I  agree. 

Then,  if  we  have  educated  the  mind,  the  minuter  care  of 
the  body  may  properly  be  committed  to  the  mind,  and  we 
need  only  indicate  general  principles  for  brevity's  sake. 

7  "  According  to  the  scheme  of  studies  in  Book  VII.,  the  gymnastic  train- 
ing was  to  be  pursued  by  itself  from  the  age  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  to 
twenty.  This  provision  probably  indicated  the  nature  of  the  training  in  ques- 
tion, for  these  were  the  years  in  which  a  young  Athenian  discharged  military 
or  patrol  duty  within  the  borders  of  Attica  as  a  foretaste  of  the  full  military 
service  which  was  one  great  aspect  of  citizen  life.  Thus  we  are  not  here  to 
think  merely  of  'gymnastics'  with  ropes  and  bars  or  of  'athletic  sports,' 
but  also  of  drill,  riding,  hunting,  the  practice  of  arms,  and  some  limited 
share  in  actual  campaigning." — Hosanquet,  p.  no. 

Bosanquet  quotes  Aristotle's  Politics  as  criticising  the  current  methods  of 
gymnastic  training.  Some  of  the  States  he  says  gave  a  physical  training  fit 
rather  for  professional  athletes  than  for  future  citizens.  The  Spartans  trained 
men  to  be  fierce,  wild,  and  wolf-like,  supposing  mistakenly  that  this  temper 
went  with  courage. 


THE   REPUBLIC  237 

Very  good. 

That  they  must  abstain  from  intoxication  has  been  already 
remarked  by  us,  for  of  all  persons  a  guardian  should  be  the 
last  to  get  drunk  and  not  know  where  in  the  world  he  is. 

Yes,  he  said  ;  that  a  guardian  should  require  another  to 
guard  him  is  ridiculous  indeed. 

But  next,  what  shall  we  say  of  their  food  ;  for  the  men  are 
athletes  in  the  great  contest  of  all,  are  they  not  ? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  will  gymnastic  exercises  be  a  suitable  training  for 
them?  4°4 

I  cannot  say. 

I  am  afraid,  I  said,  that  such  exercise  is  but  a  sleepy  sort 
of  thing,  and  rather  perilous  to  health.  Do  you  not  observe 
that  athletes  sleep  away  their  lives,  and  are  liable  to  most 
dangerous  illnesses  if  they  depart,  in  ever  so  slight  a  degree, 
from  their  customary  regimen  ? 

Yes,  I  observe  that. 

Then,  I  said,  a  finer  sort  of  training  will  be  required  for  our 
warrior  athletes,  who  are  to  be  like  wakeful  dogs,  and  to  see 
and  hear  with  the  utmost  keenness ;  they  will  have  to  endure 
many  changes  of  water  and  also  of  food,  of  summer  heat  and 
winter  cold,  and  yet  they  must  not  be  liable  to  break  down  in 
health. 

That  is  quite  my  view,  he  said. 

The  really  excellent  gymnastic  is  twin  sister  of  that  simple 
music  which  we  were  just  now  describing. 

How  is  that  ? 

Why,  I  conceive  that  there  is  a  gymnastic  also  which  is  sim- 
ple and  good  ;  and  that  such  ought  to  be  the  military  gym- 
nastic. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

My  meaning  may  be  learned  from  Homer ;  he,  you  know, 
feecls  his  heroes  when  they  are  campaigning  on  soldiers'  fare  ; 
they  have  no  fish,  although  they  are  on  the  shores  of  the  Hell- 
espont, and  they  are  allowed  nothing  but  roast  meat — which 
only  requires  fire,  and  is  therefore  the  most  convenient  diet  for 
soldiers — and  not  boiled,  as  this  would  involve  a  carrying 
about  of  pots  and  pans. 

True. 

And  I  can  hardly  be  mistaken  in  saying  that  sweet  sauces 


238  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

are  not  even  mentioned  by  him.  In  this,  however,  he  is  not 
singular,  as  all  professional  athletes  know  that  a  man  who  is  to 
be  in  good  condition  should  take  nothing  of  that  sort. 

[The  effects  of  luxurious  living  upon  the  body  may  be  likened 
to  the  effects  of  complex  music  upon  the  soul.] 

There  complexity  engendered  license,  and  here  disease ; 
whereas  simplicity  in  music  was  the  parent  of  temperance  in 
the  soul,  and  simplicity  in  gymnastic,  of  health  in  the  body. 

Most  true,  he  said. 

But  when  intemperance  and  diseases  multiply  in  a  State,  halls 

of  justice  and  medicine  are  always  being  opened;  and  the 

arts  of  the  doctor  and  the  lawyer  begin  to  give  them- 

4°5="  selves  airs,  finding  how  keen  is  the  interest  which  the 

4         very  freemen  of  a  city  take  about  them. 

Most  true. 

And  yet  what  greater  proof  can  there  be  of  a  bad  and  dis- 
graceful state  of  education  than  this,  that  not  only  the  meaner 
classes  and  the  artisans  are  in  need  of  the  high  skill  of  physi- 
cians and  judges,  but  also  those  who  would  tell  us  that  they 
have  had  a  liberal  education?  Is  not  this  disgraceful,  and  a 
great  sign  of  the  want  of  education,  that  a  man  should  have  to 
go  abroad  for  his  law  and  physic  because  he  has  none  of  his 
own  at  home,  and  must  therefore  surrender  himself  into  the 
hands  of  others  ? 

Nothing,  he  said,  can  be  more  disgraceful. 

Would  you  say  that,  I  replied,  when  you  consider  that  there 
is  a  further  stage  of  the  evil  in  which  a  man  is  not  only  a  life- 
long litigant,  passing  his  days  always  in  the  courts  either,  as 
plaintiff  or  defendant,  but  is  led  by  his  bad  taste  even  to  pride 
himself  on  this;  he  is  ready  to  fancy  that  he  is  a  master 
in  cunning ;  and  he  will  take  every  crooked  turn  and  wriggle 
into  and  out  of  every  hole,  bending  like  a  withy  and  getting 
away,  and  all  for  what  ?  in  order  that  he  may  gain  small  points 
not  worth  mentioning,  not  knowing  that  so  to  order  his  life  as 
to  be  able  to  do  without  a  nodding  judge  is  a  far  higher  and 
nobler  sort  of  thing.     Is  not  that  still  more  disgraceful  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  still  more  disgraceful. 

Well,  I  said,  and  to  require  the  help  of  medicine,  not  when 
a  wound  has  to  be  cured,  or  on  occasion  of  an  epidemic,  but 


THE   REPUBLIC  239 

just  because,  by  their  lives  of  indolence  and  luxury,  men  fill 
themselves  like  pools  with  waters  and  winds,  compelling  the 
ingenious  sons  of  Asclepius 8  to  give  diseases  the  names  of  flatu- 
lence and  catarrh  j  is  not  this,  too,  a  disgrace  ? 

[In  the  days  of  Asclepius  and  Homer,  and  before  the  time 
of  Herodicus,  most  of  the  diseases  which  we  now  have  did 
not  exist  and  the  practice  of  medicine  was  very  simple.  But 
the  present  system  of  medicine  may  be  said  to  educate  diseases.] 

Herodicus,  being  a  trainer,  and  himself  of  a  sickly  consti 
tution,  by  a  happy  combination  of  training  and  doctoring, 
found  out  a  way  of  torturing  first  and  principally  himself,  and 
secondly  the  rest  of  the  world. 

How  was  that  ?  he  said. 

By  the  invention  of  lingering  death ;  for  he  had  a  mortal 
disease  which  he  perpetually  tended,  and  as  recovery  was  out 
of  the  question,  he  passed  his  entire  life  as  a  valetudinarian ; 
he  could  do  nothing  but  attend  upon  himself,  and  he  was  in 
constant  torment  whenever  he  departed  in  anything  from  his 
usual  regimen,  and  so  dying  hard,  by  the  help  of  science  he 
struggled  on  to  old  age. 

What  a  noble  reward  of  the  physician's  skill ! 

Yes,  I  said  ;  such  a  reward  as  a  man  might  fairly  expect 
who  knew  not  the  wisdom  of  Asclepius,  and  did  not  consider 
that,  if  he  failed  to  instruct  his  descendants  in  these  arts,  this 
arose  not  from  ignorance  or  inexperience  of  such  a  department 
of  medicine,  but  because  he  knew  that  in  all  well-ordered 
States  every  individual  had  an  occupation  to  which  he  must 
attend,  and  therefore  had  no  leisure  to  spend  in  continually 
being  ill.  This  we  remark  in  the  case  of  the  artisan,  but, 
ludicrously  enough,  fail  to  apply  the  same  rule  to  people  of 
the  richer  sort. 

How  is  that?  he  said. 

I  replied ;  when  a  carpenter  is  ill  he  asks  the  physician  for 
a  rough  and  ready  remedy  j  an  emetic  or  a  purge  or  cautery  or 
the  knife, — these  are  his  remedies.  And  if  any  one  tells  him 
that  he  must  go  through  a  course  of  dietetics,  and  swathe  and 
swaddle  his  head,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  he  replies  at  once 
that  he  has  no  time  to  be  ill,  and  that  he  sees  no  good  in  a  life 

8  Physicians.     See  Protagoras,  note  8. 


240  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

which  is  spent  in  nursing  his  disease  to  the  neglect  of  his  ordi- 
nary calling  ;  and  therefore  saying  good-by  to  this  sort  of  phy- 
sician, he  resumes  his  customary  diet,  and  either  gets  well  and 
lives  and  does  his  business,  or,  if  his  constitution  fails,  he  dies 
and  has  done  with  it. 

Yes,  he  said,  and  a  man  in  his  condition  of  life  ought  to  use 
this  summary  art  of  medicine. 

Has  he  not,  I  said,  an  occupation ;  and  what  profit 
4  7"  would  there  be  in  his  life  if  he  were  deprived  of  his  oc- 
cupation ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

But  the  rich  man,  as  we  say,  is  a  gentleman  who  has  no 
work  which  he  ought  to  do  or  die  ? 

He  is  generally  supposed  to  have  nothing  to  do. 

Then  you  never  heard  of  the  saying  of  Phocylides,9  that  as 
soon  as  a  man  has  a  livelihood  he  should  practice  virtue  ? 

Nay,  he  said,  I  think  that  he  need  not  wait  for  that. 

I  don't  want  to  raise  that  question,  I  replied ;  1  want  rather 
to  know  whether  the  practice  of  virtue  is  obligatory  on  the 
rich,  and  ought  to  be  a  necessity  of  life  to  him;  and  if  so, 
whether  their  dieting  of  disorders,  which  is  an  impediment  to 
the  application  of  the  mind  in  carpentering  and  the  mechani- 
cal arts,  does  not  equally  stand  in  the  way  of  the  maxim  of 
Phocylides? 

Of  that,  he  replied,  there  can  be  no  doubt  j  such  excessive 
care  of  the  body,  when  carried  beyond  the  rules  of  gymnastic, 
is  most  inimical  to  the  practice  of  virtue,  and  equally  incom- 
patible with  the  management  of  a  house,  an  army,  or  an  office 
of  State. 

Yes,  and  even  more  incompatible,  I  replied,  with  any  kind 
of  study  or  thought  or  self-reflection. 

[Asclepius  shows  himself  to  have  been  a  good  statesman. 
He  conserved  the  interests  of  the  State  in  healing  only  those 
of  healthy  constitution  and  habits  of  life.  He  did  not  attempt 
to  cure  diseased  constitutions  because  they  were  of  no  use  to 
the  State.] 

All  that,  Socrates,  he  said,  is  excellent ;  but  I  should  like 
to  put  a  question  to  you.     Ought  there  not  to  be  good  physi- 

9  Phocylides  (fo-cyl'i-dez,  560 B.C.) :  a  Greek  poet. 


THE  REPUBLIC  24 1 

cians  in  a  State,  and  are  not  the  best  those  who  have  the 
greatest  experience  of  constitutions  good  and  bad,  just  as  good 
judges  are  those  who  are  acquainted  with  all  sorts  of  moral 
natures  ? 

Yes,  I  said,  I  quite  agree  about  the  necessity  of  having  good 
judges  and  good  physicians.  But  do  you  know  whom  I  think 
good? 

Will  you  inform  me  ? 

Yes,  if  I  can.  Let  me  however  note  that  in  the  same 
question  you  join  two  things  which  are  not  the  same. 

How  is  that  ?  he  said. 

Why,  I  said,  you  join  physicians  and  judges.  Now  skillful 
physicians  are  those  who,  besides  knowing  their  art,  have  from 
their  youth  upwards  had  the  greatest  experience  of  disease ; 
they  had  better  not  be  in  robust  health,  and  should  have  had 
all  manner  of  diseases  in  their  own  persons.  For  the  body,  as 
I  conceive,  is  not  the  instrument  with  which  they  cure  the 
body  ;  in  that  case  we  would  not  allow  them  ever  to  be  sickly  ; 
but  they  cure  the  body  with  the  mind,  and  the  mind  which  is 
or  has  become  sick  can  cure  nothing. 

That  is  very  true,  he  said. 

But  with  the  judge  the  case  is  different ;  he  governs  mind 
by  mind,  and  he  cannot  be  allowed  therefore  to  have  been 
reared  among  vicious  minds,  and  to  have  associated  with 
them  from  youth  upwards,  in  order  that,  having  gone 
through  the  whole  calendar  of  crime,  he  may  infer  the  crimes 
of  others  like  their  diseases  from  the  knowledge  of  himself; 
but  the  honorable  mind  which  is  to  form  a  healthy  judgment 
ought  rather  to  have  had  no  experience  or  contamination  of 
evil  habits  when  young.  And  this  is  the  reason  why  in  youth 
good  men  often  appear  to  be  simple,  and  are  easily  practiced 
upon  by  the  evil,  because  they  have  no  samples  of  evil  in  their 
own  souls. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  very  often  happens  with  them. 

Therefore,  I  said,  the  judge  should  not  be  young ;  he  should 
have  learned  to  know  evil,  not  from  his  own  soul,  but  from 
late  and  long  observation  of  the  nature  of  evil  in  others : 
knowledge,  and  not  his  own  experience,  should  be  his  guide. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  ideal  of  a  judge. 

Yes,  I  replied,  and  he  will  be  good  too  (and  this  answers 
your  question)  ;  for  he  is  good  whose  soul  is  good ;  now  your 
16 


242  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

cunning  and  suspicious  character,  who  has  committed  many- 
crimes,  when  he  is  among  men  who  are  like  himself,  is  won- 
derful in  his  precautions  against  others,  because  he  judges  of 
them  by  himself :  but  when  he  gets  into  the  company  of  men 
of  virtue,  who  have  the  experience  of  age,  he  appears  to  be  a 
fool  again,  owing  to  his  unseasonable  suspicion  :  he  cannot 
recognize  an  honest  man,  because  he  has  nothing  in  himself 
at  all  parallel  to  judge  from  j  at  the  same  time,  as  the  bad 
are  more  numerous  than  the  good,  and  he  meets  with  them 
oftener,  he  thinks  himself,  and  others  think  him,  rather  wise 
than  foolish. 

Most  true,  he  said. 

Then  the  good  and  wise  judge  whom  we  are  seeking  is  not 
this  man ;  the  other  is  better  suited  to  us  ;  for  vice  cannot 
know  virtue,  but  a  virtuous  nature,  educated  by  time,  will  ac- 
quire a  knowledge  both  of  virtue  and  vice  :  the  virtuous,  and 
not  the  vicious  man  has  wisdom  ;  that  is  my  view. 

And  mine  also. 

This  is  the  sort  of  medicine,  and   this  is  the  sort  of  law, 

which  you  will  sanction.     They  will  be  healing  arts  to  better 

natures  in  their  souls  and  in  their  bodies ;  but  the  worse 

nature  or  constitution  they  will  in  the  case  of  the  body 

leave  to  die,  and  the  diseased  and  incurable  soul  they  will  put 

to  death  themselves. 

That  is  clearly  best  for  them  and  for  the  State. 

And  thus  our  youth,  having  been  educated  only  in  that 
simple  music  which  infuses  temperance,  will  be  reluctant  to 
go  to  law. 

That  is  evident. 

And  in  the  same  way  simple  gymnastic  will  incline  him  to 
have  as  little  as  possible  to  do  with  medicine. 

That  I  quite  believe. 

The  very  exercises  and  toils  he  will  undertake  in  order  to 
stimulate  the  spirited  element  of  his  nature,  rather  than  with  a 
view  of  increasing  his  strength  ;  he  will  not,  like  common 
athletes,  use  exercise  and  regimen  to  develop  his  muscles. 

Very  right,  he  said. 

Neither  are  the  two  arts  of  music  and  gymnastic  really  de- 
signed, the  one  for  the  training  of  the  soul,  the  other  for  the 
training  of  the  body. 

But  what  is  the  real  object  ? 


THE   REPUBLIC  243 

I  believe,  I  said,  that  the  teachers  of  both  have  in  view 
chiefly  the  improvement  of  the  soul. 

How  is  that  ?  he  asked. 

Did  you  never  observe,  I  said,  the  effect  on  the  mind  of 
exclusive  devotion  to  gymnastic,  or  the  opposite  effect  of  an 
exclusive  devotion  to  music  ? 

In  what  is  that  shown  ?  he  said. 

In  producing  a  temper  of  hardness  and  ferocity,  or  again  of 
softness  and  effeminacy,  I  replied. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  am  quite  aware  that  your  mere  athlete  be- 
comes too  much  of  a  savage,  and  that  the  musician  is  melted 
and  softened  beyond  what  is  good  for  him. 

Moreover,  I  said,  that  fierce  quality  gives  spirit,  and,  if  ed- 
ucated rightly,  will  be  valiant,  but,  if  overstrained,  is  likely 
to  become  hard  and  brutal. 

That  I  quite  think. 

The  philosopher  is  the  type  of  the  gentler  character.  This, 
if  too  much  relaxed,  will  turn  to  softness,  but,  if  educated, 
will  be  gentle  and  modest. 

True. 

And  our  view  is  that  the  guardians  ought  to  have  both  these 
qualities? 

They  ought. 

They  should  be  harmonized  ? 

Beyond  question. 

And  the  harmonious  soul  is  both  temperate  and  val- 
iant?  4" 

Yes. 

And  the  inharmonious  is  cowardly  and  boorish  ? 

Very  true. 

And,  when  a  man  allows  music  to  play  and  pour  over  his 
soul  through  his  ears,  which  are  the  funnel,  those  sweet  and 
soft  and  melancholy  airs  of  which  we  were  just  now  speaking, 
and  his  whole  life  is  passed  in  warbling  and  the  delights  of 
song  ;  in  the  first  stage  of  the  process  the  passion  or  spirit 
which  is  in  him  is  tempered  like  iron,  and  made  useful,  instead 
of  brittle  and  useless.  But,  if  he  carries  on  the  softening  proc- 
ess, in  the  next  stage  he  begins  to  melt  and  consume,  until 
the  passion  of  his  soul  is  melted  out  of  him,  and  what  may  be 
called  the  nerves  of  his  soul  are  cut  away,  and  he  makes  but  a 
feeble  warrior. 


244  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Very  true. 

If  the  element  of  spirit  is  naturally  weak  in  him  this  is  soon 
accomplished,  but  if  he  have  a  good  deal,  then  the  power  of 
music  weakening  the  spirit  renders  him  excitable;  he  soon 
flames  up,  and  is  speedily  extinguished  j  instead  of  having 
spirit  he  becomes  irritable  and  violent  and  very  discontented. 

Exactly. 

Thus  in  gymnastics  also,  if  a  man  works  hard  and  is  a  great 
feeder,  and  the  reverse  of  a  great  student  of  music  and  philos- 
ophy, at  first  the  high  condition  of  his  body  fills  him  with  pride 
and  spirit,  until  he  is  twice  the  man  that  he  was. 

Certainly. 

But  if  he  do  nothing  else,  and  never  cultivates  the  Muses, 
even  that  intelligence  which  there  may  be  in  him,  having  no 
taste  of  any  sort  of  learning  or  inquiry  or  thought  or  music, 
becomes  feeble  and  dull  and  blind,  because  never  roused  or 
sustained,  and  because  the  senses  are  not  purged  of  their  mists. 

True,  he  said. 

And  he  ends  by  becoming  a  hater  of  philosophy,  unculti- 
vated, never  using  the  weapon  of  persuasion, — he  is  like  a 
wild  beast,  all  violence  and  fierceness,  and  knows  no  other 
way  of  dealing;  and  he  lives  in  all  ignorance  and  evil  condi- 
tions, and  has  no  sense  of  propriety  and  grace. 

That  is  quite  true,  he  said. 

And  as  there  are  two  principles  of  human  nature,  one  the 
spirited  and  the  other  the  philosophical,  my  belief  is  that  God 
has  given  mankind  two  arts  answering  to  them  (and  only 
indirectly  to  the  soul  and  body),  in  order  that  these  two 
principles  may  be  duly  attuned  and  harmonized  with  one  an- 
other. 

That  I  am  disposed  to  believe. 

And  he  who  mingles  music  with  gymnastic  in  the  fairest 
proportions,  and  best  attempers  them  to  the  soul,  may  be 
called  the  true  musician  and  harmonist  in  a  far  higher  sense 
than  the  tuner  of  the  strings. 

I  dare  say,  Socrates. 

And  such  a  presiding  genius  will  be  always  required  in  our 
State  if  the  government  is  to  last. 

Yes,  he  will  be  absolutely  necessary. 

Such,  then,  are  our  principles  of  nurture  and  education. 
There  would  be  no  use  in  going  into  further  details  about  their 


THE   REPUBLIC  245 

dances,  their  hunting  or  chasing  with  dogs,  their  gymnastic  and 
equestrian  contests ;  for  these  all  follow  the  general  principle, 
and  there  will  be  no  longer  any  difficulty  in  discovering  them. 

I  dare  say  that  there  will  be  no  difficulty. 

Very  well,  I  said ;  and  what  is  the  next  question  ?  Must 
we  not  ask  who  are  to  be  rulers  and  who  subjects  ? 

Certainly. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  elder  sort  must  rule  the 
younger. 

Clearly. 

And  that  the  best  of  the  elder  sort  must  rule. 

That  is  also  clear. 

Now,  are  not  the  best  husbandmen  those  who  are  most  de- 
voted to  husbandry  ? 

Yes. 

And  as  we  must  have  the  best  guardians  of  our  city,  must 
they  not  be  those  who  have  most  the  character  of  guardians  ? 

Yes. 

And  to  this  end  they  ought  to  be  wise  and  efficient,  and  to 
have  a  special  interest  about  the  State  ? 

True. 

And  a  man  will  be  most  likely  to  care  about  that  which  he 
happens  to  love  ? 

That  may  be  truly  inferred. 

And  he  will  be  most  likely  to  love  that  which  he  regards  as 
having  the  same  interests  with  himself,  and  anything  the  good 
or  evil  fortune  of  which  he  imagines  to  involve  as  a  result  his 
own  good  or  evil  fortune,  and  to  be  proportionably  careless 
when  he  is  less  concerned  ? 

Very  true,  he  replied. 

Then  there  must  be  a  selection.  Let  us  note  among  the 
guardians  those  who  in  their  whole  life  show  the  greatest  de- 
sire to  do  what  is  for  the  good  of  their  country,  and  will  not 
do  what  is  against  her  interests. 

Those  are  the  right  men. 

They  will  have  to  be  watched  at  every  turn  of  their  lives, 
in  order  that  we  may  see  whether  they  preserve  this  resolu- 
tion, and  never,  under  the  influence  either  of  force  or  en- 
chantment, forget  or  let  go  their  duty  to  the  State. 

I  do  not  understand,  he  said,  the  meaning  of  the  latter 
words. 


246  t>LATO  THE  TEACHER 

I  will  explain  them  to  you,  I  replied.  A  resolution  may 
go  out  of  a  man's  mind  either  with  his  will  or  against  his 
will;  with  his  will  when  he  gets  rid  of  a  falsehood, 
^I3     against  his  will  whenever  he  is  deprived  of  a  truth. 

I  understand,  he  said,  the  willing  loss  of  a  resolution;  the 
meaning  of  the  unwilling  I  have  yet  to  learn. 

Why,  I  said,  do  you  not  see  that  men  are  unwillingly  de- 
prived of  good,  and  willingly  of  evil?  Is  not  to  have  lost  the 
truth  an  evil,  and  to  have  the  truth  a  good  ?  and  you  would 
allow  that  to  conceive  things  as  they  are  is  to  have  the  truth  ? 

Yes,  he  replied  ;  I  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  mankind 
are  deprived  of  truth  against  their  will. 

And  do  they  not  experience  this  involuntary  effect  owing 
either  to  theft,  or  force,  or  enchantment? 

Still,  he  replied,  I  do  not  understand  you. 

I  fear  that  I  must  have  been  talking  darkly,  like  the  trage- 
dians. All  that  I  mean  is  that  some  men  change  and  others 
forget ;  persuasion  steals  away  the  hearts  of  the  one  class,  and 
time  of  the  other  ;  and  this  I  call  theft.  Now  you  understand 
me? 

Yes. 

Those  again  who  are  forced,  are  those  whom  the  violence 
of  some  pain  or  grief  compels  co  change  their  opinion. 

That,  he  said,  I  understand,  and  you  are  quite  right. 

And  you  would  also  acknowledge  with  me  that  those  are 
enchanted  who  change  their  minds  either  under  the  softer  in- 
fluence of  pleasure,  or  the  sterner  influence  of  fear  ? 

Yes,  he  said ;  everything  that  deceives  may  be  said  to  en- 
chant. 

Therefore,  as  I  was  just  now  saying,  we  must  inquire  who 
are  the  best  guardians  of  their  own  conviction  that  the  inter- 
est of  the  State  is  to  be  the  rule  of  all  their  actions.  We  must 
watch  them  from  their  youth  upwards,  and  propose  deeds  for 
them  to  perforin  in  which  they  are  most  likely  to  forget  or  to 
be  deceived,  and  he  who  remembers  and  is  not  deceived  is  to 
be  selected,  and  he  who  fails  in  the  trial  is  to  be  rejected. 
That  will  be  the  way. 

Yes. 

And  there  should  also  be  toils  and  pains  and  conflicts  pre- 
scribed for  them,  in  which  they  will  give  further  proof  of  the 
same  qualities. 


THE   REPUBLIC  247 

Very  right,  he  replied. 

And  then,  I  said,  we  must  try  them  with  enchantments — 
that  is  the  third  sort  of  test — and  see  what  will  be  their  be- 
havior ;  like  those  who  take  colts  amid  noises  and  cries  to  see 
if  they  are  of  a  timid  nature,  so  must  we  take  our  youth  amid 
terrors  of  some  kind,  and  again  pass  them  into  pleasures,  and 
try  them  more  thoroughly  than  gold  is  tried  in  the  fire,  in 
order  to  discover  whether  they  are  armed  against  all  enchant- 
ments, and  of  a  noble  bearing  always,  good  guardians  of  them- 
selves and  of  the  music  which  they  have  learned,  and  retain 
under  all  circumstances  a  rhythmical  and  harmonious  nature, 
sich  as  will  be  most  serviceable  to  the  man  himself  and  to  the 
State.  And  he  who  at  every  age,  as  boy  and  youth  and  in 
mature  life,  has  come  out  of  the  trial  victorious  and  pure,  shall 
be  appointed  a  ruler  and  guardian  of  the  State  ;  he  shall 
be  honored  in  life  and  death,  and  shall  receive  sepulture 
and  other  memorials  of  honor,  the  greatest  that  we  have  to 
give.  And  as  he  is  chosen  his  opposite  is  rejected.  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  that  this  is  the  sort  of  way  in  which  our  rulers 
and  guardians  should  be  chosen.  I  speak  generally,  and  not 
with  any  pretension  to  exactness. 

And,  speaking  generally,  I  agree  with  you,  he  said. 

And  perhaps  the  word  "  guardian  "  in  the  fullest  sense  ought 
to  be  applied  to  this  class  only  who  are  our  warriors  abroad 
and  our  peacemakers  at  home,  and  who  save  us  from  those 
who  might  have  the  will  or  the  power  to  injure  us.  The 
young  men  whom  we  before  called  guardians  may  be  more 
properly  designated  auxiliaries  and  allies  of  the  principles  of 
the  rulers. 

[Socrates  suggests  that  the  citizens  be  told  an  old  Phoenician 
myth  as  part  of  their  education. 10] 

They  are  to  be  informed  that  their  youth  was  a  dream, 
and  the  education  and  training  which  they  received  from  us 
an  appearance  only ;  in  reality  during  all  that  time  they 
were  in  process  of  formation  and  nourishment  in  the  womb  of 

10  In  this  place,  as  also  in  Laws,  II.,  663,  Socrates  advises  that  the  people 
should  be  taught  as  literal  truth  a  myth,  which  is  intended  to  convey  a  les- 
son. Here  as  elsewhere  he  justifies  a  certain  kind  of  falsehood.  Observe 
that  the  "  Socratic  method  "  in  this  case  does  not  consist  in  asking  questions 
but  in  the  inculcation  of  truth  by  myth. 


248  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

the  earth,  where  they  themselves  and  their  arms  and  appurte- 
nances were  manufactured  ;  and  when  they  were  completed, 
the  earth,  their  mother,  sent  them  up;  and,  their  country 
being  their  mother  and  also  their  nurse,  they  are  therefore 
bound  to  advise  for  her  good,  and  to  defend  her  against 
attacks,  and  her  citizens  they  are  to  regard  as  children  of  the 
earth  and  their  own  brothers.  .  .  .  Citizens,  we  shall  say 
45  to  them  in  our  tale,  you  are  brothers,  yet  God  has  framed 
you  differently.  Some  of  you  have  the  power  of  command, 
and  these  he  has  composed  of  gold,  wherefore  also  they  have 
the  greatest  honor ;  others  of  silver,  to  be  auxiliaries  j  others 
again  who  are  to  be  husbandmen  and  craftsmen  he  has  made 
of  brass  and  iron  ;  and  the  species  will  generally  be  preserved 
in  the  children.  But  as  you  are  of  the  same  original  family, 
a  golden  parent  will  sometimes  have  a  silver  son,  or  a  silver 
parent  a  golden  son.  And  God  proclaims  to  the  rulers,  as  a 
first  principle,  that  before  all  they  should  watch  over  their 
offspring,  and  see  what  elements  mingle  in  their  nature ;  for 
if  the  son  of  a  golden  or  silver  parent  has  an  admixture  of 
brass  and  iron,  then  nature  orders  a  transposition  of  ranks, 
and  the  eye  of  the  ruler  must  not  be  pitiful  towards  his  child 
because  he  has  to  descend  in  the  scale  and  become  a  husband- 
man or  artisan,  just  as  there  may  be  others  sprung  from  the 
artisan  class  who  are  raised  to  honor,  and  become  guardians 
and  auxiliaries.  For  an  oracle  says  that  when  a  man  of  brass 
or  iron  guards  the  State,  it  will  then  be  destroyed.  Such  is  the 
tale;  is  there  any  possibility  of  making  our  citizens  believe  in  it? 

Not  in  the  present  generation,  he  replied  ;  I  do  not  see  any 
way  of  accomplishing  this ;  but  their  sons  may  be  made  to 
believe,  and  their  sons'  sons,  and  posterity  after  them. 

I  see  the  difficulty,  I  replied ;  yet  even  this  amount  of 
belief  may  make  them  care  more  for  the  city  and  for  one 
another.  Enough,  however,  of  the  fiction,  which  may  now 
be  borne  on  the  wings  of  rumor,  while  we  arm  our  earth-born 
heroes,  and  lead  them  forth  under  the  command  of  their  rulers. 
Let  them  look  around  and  select  a  spot  whence  they  can  best 
prevent  insurrection,  if  any  prove  refractory  within,  and  also 
defend  themselves  against  enemies,  who  like  wolves  may  come 
down  on  the  fold  from  without ;  there  let  them  encamp,  and 
when  they  have  encamped,  let  them  sacrifice  and  prepare  their 
dwellings. 


THE   REPUBLIC  249 

And  what  sort  of  dwellings  are  they  to  have? 

Dwellings  that  will  shield  them  against  the  cold  of  winter 
and  the  heat  of  summer. 

I  suppose  that  you  mean  houses,  he  replied. 

Yes,  I  said ;  but  they  must  be  the  houses  of  soldiers,  and 
not  of  shop-keepers. 

What  is  the  difference?  he  said. 

That  I  will  endeavor  to  explain,  I  replied.     To  keep         , 
watch-dogs,  who,  from  want  of  discipline  or  hunger,  or 
some  evil  habit  or  other,  would  turn  upon  the  sheep  and  worry 
them,  and  behave  not  like  dogs  but  wolves,  would  be  a  foul 
and  monstrous  thing  ? 

Truly  monstrous,  he  said. 

And,  therefore,  every  care  must  be  taken  lest  our  auxilia- 
ries, as  they  are  stronger  than  our  citizens,  should  prevail  over 
them,  and  become  savage  tyrants  instead  of  gentle  allies  to 
them  ? 

Yes,  care  should  be  taken. 

And  would  not  education  be  the  best  preparation  and  safe- 
guard of  them  ? 

But  they  are  well-educated,  he  replied  j  that  is  a  safeguard 
which  they  already  have. 

I  cannot  be  so  confident  of  that,  my  dear  Glaucon,  I  said ; 
I  am  much  more  certain  that  they  ought  to  be,  and  that  true 
education,  whatever  that  may  be,  will  greatly  tend  to  civilize 
and  humanize  them  in  their  relations  to  one  another,  and  to 
those  who  are  under  their  protection. 

True,  he  replied. 

And  not  only  their  education,  but  their  habitations,  and 
also  their  means  of  subsistence,  should  be  such  as  will  neither 
impair  their  virtue  as  guardians,  nor  tempt  them  to  prey  upon 
the  other  citizens.     Any  man  of  sense  will  say  that. 

He  will. 

Such  is  our  conception  of  them  ;  and  now  let  us  consider 
what  way  of  life  will  correspond  with  this  conception.  In  the 
first  place,  none  of  them  should  have  any  property  beyond 
what  is  absolutely  necessary  ;  neither  should  they  have  a  private 
house,  with  bars  and  bolts,  closed  against  any  one  who  has  a 
mind  to  enter  ;  their  provisions  should  be  only  such  as  are  re- 
quired by  trained  warriors,  who  are  men  of  temperance  and 
courage  ;   their  agreement  is  to  receive  from  the  citizens  a 


250  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

fixed  rate  of  pay,  enough  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  year  and 
no  more,  and  they  will  have  common  meals  and  live  together, 
like  soldiers  in  a  camp.  Gold  and  silver  we  will  tell  them 
that  they  have  from  God ;  the  diviner  metal  is  within  them, 
and  they  have  therefore  no  need  of  that  earthly  dross  which 
passes  under  the  name  of  gold,  and  ought  not  to  pollute  the 
divine  by  earthly  admixture,  for  that  commoner  metal 
has  been  the  source  of  many  unholy  deeds  ;  but  their 
own  is  undefiled.  And  they  alone  of  all  the  citizens  may  not 
touch  or  handle  silver  or  gold,  or  be  under  the  same  roof  with 
them,  or  wear  them,  or  drink  from  them.  And  this  will  be 
their  salvation,  and  the  salvation  of  the  State.  But  should  they 
ever  acquire  homes  or  lands  or  moneys  of  their  own,  they  will 
become  housekeepers  and  husbandmen  instead  of  guardians, 
enemies  and  tyrants  instead  of  allies  of  the  other  citizens; 
hating  and  being  hated,  plotting  and  being  plotted  against, 
they  will  pass  through  life  in  much  greater  terror  of  internal 
than  of  external  enemies,  and  the  hour  of  ruin,  both  to  them- 
selves and  to  the  rest  of  the  State,  will  be  at  hand.  For  all 
which  reasons  may  we  not  say  that  these  are  to  be  the  regula- 
tions of  our  guardians  respecting  houses  and  all  other  things, 
and  that  such  shall  be  our  laws  ? 
Yes,  said  Glaucon. 


THE  REPUBLIC  2$  I 


BOOK   IV 

Here  Adeimantus  interposed  a  question.  He  said  :  How 
would  you  answer,  Socrates,  if  a  person  were  to  say  that  you 
make  your  citizens  miserable,  and  all  by  their  own  doing ; 
for  they  are  the  actual  owners  of  the  city,  and  yet  they  reap 
no  advantage  from  this ;  whereas  other  men  acquire  lands, 
and  build  large  and  handsome  houses,  and  have  everything 
handsome  about  them  ;  offering  sacrifices  to  the  gods  on  their 
own  account,  and  practicing  hospitality  ;  and  also,  as  you 
were  saying  only  just  now,  they  have  gold  and  silver,  and  all 
that  is  usual  among  the  favorites  of  fortune ;  while  our  poor 
citizens  are  no  better  than  mercenaries  who  are  fixed  in  the 
city  and  do  nothing  but  mount  guard  ? 

Yes,  I  said ;  and  you  may  add  that  they  are  only  fed,  and 
not  paid,  in  addition  to  their  food,  like  other  men ;   and 
therefore  they  cannot  make  a  journey  of  pleasure,  they 
have  no  money  to  spend  on  a  mistress  or  any  other  luxuri- 
ojs  fancy,  which,  as  the  world  goes,  is  thought  to  be  happiness; 
and  many  other  accusations  of  the  same  nature  might  be  added. 

But,  said  he,  let  us  suppose  all  that  included  in  the  charge. 

You  mean  to  ask,  I  said,  what  is  to  be  our  answer  ? 

Yes,  he  replied. 

If  we  proceed  along  the  path  which  we  are  already  going,  I 
said,  my  belief  is  that  we  shall  find  the  answer.  Even  if  our 
guardians  were  such  as  you  describe,  there  would  not  be  any- 
thing wonderful  in  their  still  being  the  happiest  of  men  j  but 
let  that  pass,  for  our  object  in  the  construction  of  the  State  is 
the  greatest  happiness  of  the  whole,  and  not  that  of  any  one 
class  ;  and  in  a  State  which  is  ordered  with  a  view  to  the  good 
of  the  whole,  we  think  that  we  are  most  likely  to  find  justice, 
and  in  the  ill-ordered  State  injustice :  and,  having  found 
them,  we  shall  then  be  able  to  decide  which  of  the  two  is  the 
happier.  At  present  we  are  constructing  the  happy  State,  not 
piecemeal,  or  with  a  view  of  making  a  few  happy  citizens,  but 
as  a  whole  ;  and  by  and  by  we  will  proceed  to  view  the  op- 
posite kind  of  State.     If  we  were  painting  a  statue,1  and  some 

1  A  peculiarity  of  ancient  sculpture  and  architecture  was  the  practice  of 
painting  all  kinds  of  marble  work.  This  is  known  from  traces  still  present  in 
many  works  of  art  and  from  passages  in  ancient  writers. 


252  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

one  were  to  come  and  blame  us  for  not  putting  the  most 
beautiful  colors  on  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  body — for 
the  eyes,  he  would  say,  ought  to  be  purple,  but  they  are  black 
—in  that  case  we  should  seem  to  excuse  ourselves  fairly 
enough  by  saying  to  him,  "  Pray,  sir,  do  not  have  the  strange 
notion  that  we  ought  to  beautify  the  eyes  to  such  a  degree 
that  they  are  no  longer  eyes  j  but  see  whether,  by  giving  this 
and  the  other  features  their  due,  we  make  the  whole  beautiful." 
And,  I  say  again,  in  like  manner  do  not  compel  us  to  assign 
to  the  guardians  a  sort  of  happiness  which  will  make  them 
anything  but  guardians  ;  for  we  also  should  have  no  difficulty 
in  clothing  our  husbandmen  in  fine  linen,  and  setting  crowns 
of  gold  on  their  heads,  bidding  them  till  the  ground  no 
more  than  they  like.  Neither  is  ignorance  the  reason  why 
we  do  not  allow  our  potters  to  repose  on  couches,  and  feast 
by  the  fireside,  passing  round  the  glittering  bowl,  while  their 
wheel  is  conveniently  at  hand,  and  working  at  pottery  as 
much  as  they  like,  and  no  more;  or,  why  we  do  not  make 
every  class  happy  in  this  way — and  then,  as  you  imagine,  the 
whole  State  would  be  happy.  But  do  not  suggest  this;  for, 
if  we  listen  to  you,  the  husbandman  will  be  no  longer  a 
husbandman,  the  potter  will  cease  to  be  a  potter,  and 
nobody  will  have  any  distinct  character.  Now  this  is  not  of 
much  importance  where  the  corruption  of  society,  and  pre- 
tension to  be  what  you  are  not,  extends  only  to  cobblers ; 
but  when  the  guardians  of  the  laws  and  of  the  government 
are  only  seemers  and  not  real  guardians,  that,  as  you  will  ob- 
serve, is  the  utter  ruin  of  the  State  :  for  they  alone  are  the 
authors  of  happiness  and  order  in  a  State.  If  we  are  right  in 
depicting  our  guardians  as  the  saviours  and  not  the  destroyers 
of  the  State,  and  the  author  of  the  other  picture  is  represent- 
ing peasants  at  a  festival,  happy  in  a  life  of  revelry,  rather 
than  fulfilling  the  duties  of  citizens,  we  mean  different  things, 
and  he  is  speaking  of  something  which  is  not  a  State.  And 
therefore  we  must  consider  whether  we  appoint  our  guardians 
with  a  view  to  their  greatest  happiness,  or  whether  this  prin- 
ciple of  happiness  does  not  rather  reside  in  the  State  as  a 
whole  ;  but  if  so,  the  guardians  and  auxiliaries,  and  all  others 
equally  with  them,  must  be  compelled  or  induced  to  do  their 
own  work  in  the  best  way  and  then  the  whole  State  growing 
up  in  a  noble  order,  the  several  classes  will  only  have  to  re- 


THE   REPUBLIC  253 

ceive  the  proportion  of  happiness    which  nature  assigns  to 
them. 

I  think  that  you  are  quite  right. 

I  wonder  whether  you  will  agree  with  another  remark  which 
occurs  to  me. 

What  may  that  be  ? 

There  seem  to  be  two  causes  of  the  deterioration  of  the 
arts. 

What  are  they  ? 

Wealth,  I  said,  and  poverty. 

How  do  they  act  ? 

The  process  is  as  follows  :  When  a  potter  becomes  rich  he 
no  longer  takes  the  same  pains  with  his  art  ? 

Certainly  not. 

He  grows  more  and  more  indolent  and  careless  ? 

Very  true. 

And  the  result  is  that  he  becomes  a  worse  potter  ? 

Yes  j  he  greatly  deteriorates. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  he  has  no  money,  and  is  unable 
to  buy  tools  or  instruments,  he  will  not  work  equally  well 
himself,  nor  will  he  teach  his  sons  or  apprentices  to  work 
equally  well. 

Certainly  not. 

Then  workmen,  and  also  their  works,  are  apt  to  degenerate 
under  the  influence  both  of  poverty  and  of  wealth  ? 

That  is  evident. 

Here,  then,  is  a  discovery  of  new  evils,  I  said,  which  the 
guardians  will  have  to  watch,  or  they  will  creep  into  the  city 
unobserved. 

What  evils  ? 

Wealth,  I  said,  and  poverty  ;  for  the  one  is  the  par- 
ent of  luxury  and  indolence,  and  the  other  of  meanness 
and  viciousness,  and  both  of  discontent.2 

That  is  very  true,  he  replied  ;  but  still  I  should  like  to 
know,  Socrates,  how  our  city  will  be  able  to  go  to  war,  es- 
pecially against  an  enemy  who  is  rich  and  powerful,  if  de- 
prived of  the  sinews  of  war. 

There  may  possibly  be  a  difficulty,  I  replied,  in  going  to 
war  with  one  such  enemy ;  but  there  is  no  difficulty  where 
there  are  two  of  them. 

»"  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches."— Proverbs  xxx.  8. 


254  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

How  is  that  ?  he  asked. 

In  the  first  place,  I  said,  our  side  will  be  trained  warriors 
fighting  against  a  number  of  wealthy  individuals. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

And  do  you  not  suppose,  Adeimantus,  that  a  single  boxer 
who  was  perfect  in  his  art  would  easily  be  a  match  for  two 
stout  and  well-to-do  gentlemen  who  were  not  boxers? 

Hardly,  if  they  came  upon  him  at  once. 

What,  not,  I  said,  if  he  were  able  to  run  away  and  then 
turn  and  strike  at  the  one  who  first  came  up  ?  And  supposing 
he  were  to  do  this  several  times  under  the  heat  of  a  scorch- 
ing sun,  do  not  you  think  that  he  might  overturn  more  than 
one  stout  personage  ? 

Certainly,  he  said,  there  would  be  nothing  wonderful  in 
that. 

And  yet  rich  men  are  probably  not  so  inferior  to  others  in 
boxing  as  they  are  in  military  qualities. 

That  is  very  likely. 

Then  probably  our  athletes  will  be  able  to  fight  with  three 
or  four  times  their  own  number  ? 

I  believe  that  you  are  right,  he  said. 

And  suppose  that,  before  engaging,  our  citizens  send  an 
embassy  to  one  of  the  two  cities,  telling  them  the'truth  :  Silver 
and  gold  we  neither  have  nor  are  permitted  to  have  ;  in  that 
we  are  not  like  you ;  do  you  therefore  come  and  help  us  in 
war,  and  take  the  spoils  of  the  other  city.  Who,  on  hearing 
these  words,  would  choose  to  fight  the  lean  wiry  dogs,  rather 
than,  with  the  dogs  on  their  side,  to  fight  fat  and  tender 
sheep  ? 

Very  true ;  but  still  there  might  be  a  danger  to  the  poor 
State  if  the  wealth  of  many  States  were  to  coalesce  in  one. 

States !  I  said ;  why,  what  simplicity  is  this,  that  you 
should  use  the  term  < '  State ' '  of  any  but  our  own  State  ! 
Other  States  may  indeed  be  spoken  of  more  grandiloquently 
in  the  plural  number,  for  they  are  many  in  one — a  game  of 
cities  at  which  men  play.  Any  ordinary  city,  however  small, 
is  in  fact  two  cities,  one  the  city  of  the  poor,  the  other  of 
the  rich,  at  war  with  one  another;  and  in  either  divis- 
ion there  are  many  smaller  ones,  and  you  would  make 
a  great  mistake  if  you  treated  them  as  single  States ;  but  if 
you  deal  with  them  as  many,  and  give  the  money  or  means  or 


THE   REPUBLIC  255 

persons  of  the  one  to  the  others,  you  will  always  have  a  great 
many  friends,  and  not  many  enemies.  And  your  State,  while 
the  wise  order  which  has  now  been  prescribed  continues  to 
prevail  in  her,  will  be  the  greatest  of  States,  not  in  reputation 
or  appearance  only,  but  in  deed  and  truth,  though  she  num- 
ber not  more  than  a  thousand  defenders.  A  State  which  is 
her  equal  you  will  hardly  find,  either  among  Hellenes  or  bar- 
barians,3 though  many  that  appear  to  be  as  great  and  many 
times  greater. 

That  is  most  true,  he  said. 

And  this,  I  said,  will  be  the  best  limit  for  our  rulers  to  fix 
when  they  are  considering  the  size  of  the  State  and  the  amount 
of  territory  which  they  are  to  include,  and  beyond  which  they 
will  not  go. 

What  limit  ? 

I  think,  I  said,  that  the  State  may  increase  to  any  size 
which  is  consistent  with  unity ;  that  is  the  limit. 

Yes,  he  said ;  that  is  excellent. 

Here  then,  I  said,  is  another  order  which  will  have  to  be 
conveyed  to  our  guardians, — that  our  city  is  to  be  neither 
large  nor  small,  but  of  such  a  size  as  is  consistent  with  unity. 

And  surely,  said  he,  this  is  not  a  very  severe  order  which 
we  impose  upon  them. 

And  this,  said  I,  is  lighter  still  of  which  we  were  speaking 
before, — I  mean  the  duty  of  degrading  the  offspring  of  the 
guardians  when  inferior,  and  of  elevating  the  offspring  of  the 
lower  classes,  when  naturally  superior,  into  the  rank  of  guar- 
dians. The  intention  was,  that,  in  the  case  of  the  citizens 
generally,  we  should  put  each  individual  man  to  that  use  for 
which  nature  designed  him,  and  then  every  man  would  do  his 
own  business,  and  be  one  and  not  many,  and  the  whole  city 
would  be  one  and  not  many. 

Yes,  he  said ;  there  will  be  even  less  difficulty  in  that. 

These  things,  my  good  Adeimantus,  are  not,  as  might  be 
supposed,  a  number  of  great  principles,  but  trifling  all  of 
them,  if  care  be  taken,  as  the  saying  is,  of  the  one  great 
thing, — a  thing,  however,  which  I  would  rather  call  not  great, 
but  enough  for  our  purpose. 

What  may  that  be  ?  he  asked. 

Education,  I  said,  and  nurture.     For  if  they  are  well  edu- 
*  A  term  applied  by  the  Greeks  to  all  who  were  not  Greeks. 


256  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

cated,  and  grow  into  sensible  men,  they  will  easily  see  their 
way  through  all  this  as  well  as  other  matters  which  I  do  not 
mention ;  such,  for  example,  as  the  possession  of  women  and 
marriage  and  the  procreation  of  children,  which  will  all 
4  follow  the  general  principle  that  friends  have  all  things 
in  common,4  as  the  proverb  says. 

That  will  be  excellent,  he  replied. 

Also,  I  said,  the  State,  if  once  started  well,  goes  on  with 
accumulating  force  like  a  wheel.  For  good  nurture  and  edu- 
cation implant  good  constitutions,  and  these  good  constitu- 
tions having  their  roots  in  a  good  education  improve  more 
and  more,  and  this  improvement  affects  the  breed  in  man  as 
in  other  animals. 

True,  he  said. 

Then  to  sum  up.  This  is  the  point  to  which,  above  all, 
the  attention  of  our  rulers  should  be  directed, — that  music 
and  gymnastics  be  preserved  in  their  original  form,  and  no 
innovation  made.  They  must  do  all  they  can  to  maintain  this. 
And  when  any  one  says  that  mankind  most  regard — 

"The  song  which  is  the  newest  that  the  singers  have," 

they  will  be  afraid  that  he  may  be  praising,  not  new  songs, 
but  a  new  kind  of  song ;  and  this  ought  not  to  be  praised, 
nor  is  this  to  be  regarded  as  the  meaning  of  the  poet  j  for  any 
musical  innovation  is  full  of  danger  to  the  State,  and  ought  to 
be  prevented.  This  is  what  Damon5  tells  me,  and  I  can  quite 
believe  him  ;  he  says  that  when  modes  of  music  change,  the 
fundamental  laws  of  the  State  always  change  with  them.6 

Yes,  said  Adeimantus ;  and  you  may  add  my  suffrage  to 
Damon's  and  your  own. 

Then,  I  said,  our  guardians  must  lay  the  foundations  of  the 
fortress  in  music? 

Yes,  he  said  ;  and  license  easily  creeps  in  ;  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  that. 

Yes,  I  replied,  in  a  kind  of  play,  and  at  first  sight  appears 
harmless. 

*  See  Book  V. ,  441-466. 

6  Damon  :  a  distinguished  musician  of  Athens,  known  also  as  a  Sophist. 

6  The  Greeks  had  originally  three  musical  modes  which  differed  in  key. 
They  believed  that  each  of  these  had  "  its  own  peculiar  emotional  influ- 
ence." See  Grote,  I.,  644.  Compare  the  saying  :  Let  me  make  a  people's 
songs  and  I  care  not  who  may  make  its  laws. 


THE   REPUBLIC  257 

Why,  he  said,  and  there  is  no  harm ;  but  the  evil  is,  that 
little  by  little  this  spirit  of  license,  finding  a  home,  penetrates 
into  manners  and  customs ;  thence,  issuing  with  greater  force, 
invades  agreements  between  man  and  man,  and  from  agree- 
ments proceeds  to  laws  and  constitutions,  in  utter  reckless- 
ness, and  ends  by  an  overthrow  of  things  in  general,  private 
as  well  as  public. 

Is  all  that  true?  I  said. 

That  is  my  belief,  he  replied. 

Then,  as  I  was  saying,  our  youth  should  be  educated  in  a 
stricter  rule  from  the  first,  for  if  education  becomes  lawless, 
and  the  youths  themselves   become   lawless,  they  can 
never  grow  up  into  well-conducted  and   virtuous  citi-     4  5 
zens. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  the  education  must  begin  with  their  plays.  The  spirit 
of  law  must  be  imparted  to  them  in  music,  and  the  spirit  of 
order,  instead  of  disorder,  will  attend  them  in  all  their  ac- 
tions, and  make  them  grow,  and  if  there  be  any  part  of  the 
State  which  has  fallen  down,  will  raise  that  up  again. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Thus  educated,  they  will  have  no  difficulty  in  rediscovering 
any  lesser  matters  which  have  been  neglected  by  their  prede- 
cessors. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  such  things  as  these  :  when  the  young  are  to  be 
silent  before  their  elders  ;  how  they  are  to  show  respect  to 
them  by  sitting  down  and  rising  up ;  what  honor  is  due  to 
parents  j  what  garments  or  shoes  are  to  be  worn  ;  what  mode 
of  wearing  the  hair  is  to  be  the  pattern  ;  and  the  fashions  of 
the  body,  and  manners  in  general.  You  would  agree  with  me 
in  that? 

Yes. 

You  think,  as  I  am  disposed  to  think,  that  there  would  be 
small  wisdom  in  legislating  about  them  ;  for  that  is  never  done, 
nor  are  any  precise  verbal  enactments  about  them  likely  to  be 
lasting. 

Impossible. 

We  may  assume,  Adeimantus,  that  the  direction  in  which 
education  starts  a  man  will  determine  his  future  life.  Does 
not  like  always  invite  like  ? 


258  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

No  question. 

Ending,  as  you  may  say,  at  last  in  some  one  rare  and  grand 
result,  which  may  be  good,  and  may  be  the  reverse  of  good. 

That  is  not  to  be  denied,  he  answered. 

And  for  this  reason,  I  said,  I  shall  not  attempt  further  to 
legislate  about  them. 

Naturally  enough,  he  replied. 

Well,  I  said,  and  about  the  business  of  the  agora,7  or 
about  bargains  and  contracts  with  artisans  j  about  insult  and 
injury,  or  the  order  in  which  causes  are  to  be  tried,  and  how 
judges  are  to  be  appointed  ;  there  may  also  be  questions  about 
impositions  and  exactions  of  market  and  harbor  dues,  and  in 
general  touching  the  administration  of  markets  or  towns  or 
harbors  and  the  like.  But,  O  heavens  !  shall  we  condescend 
to  legislate  on  any  of  these  particulars  ? 

I  think,  he  said,  that  there  is  no  need  to  impose  them  by 
law  on  good  men  ;  most  of  the  necessary  regulations  they  will 
find  out  soon  enough  for  themselves. 

Yes,  I  said,  my  friend,  if  God  will  only  guard  the  laws  that 
we  have  given  them. 

And  without  divine  help,  said  Adeimantus,  they  will  go  on 
forever  making  and  mending  their  laws  and  their  lives  in  the 
hope  of  attaining  perfection. 

You  would  compare  them,  I  said,  to  those  invalids  who, 
having  no  self-restraint,  will  not  leave  off  their  habits  of  in- 
temperance ? 

Exactly. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  and  how  charming  those  people  are  !  they  are 
always  doctoring  and  increasing  and  complicating  their  dis- 
orders, fancying  they  will  be  cured  by  some  nostrum  which 
somebody  advises  them  to  try, — never  getting  better,  but 
rather  growing  worse. 

,         That  is  often  the  case,  he  said,  with  invalids  such  as 
you  describe. 

Yes,  I  replied  ;  they  have  a  charming  way  of  going  on,  and 
the  charming  thing  is  that  they  deem  him  their  worst  enemy 
who  tells  them  the  truth,  which  is  simply  that,  unless  they  give 
up  eating  and  drinking  and  lusting  and  sleeping,  neither  drug 
nor  cautery  nor  spell  nor  amulet  nor  anything  will  be  of  any 
avail. 

7  See  Apology,  note  2. 


THE   REPUBLIC  259 

Charming  !  he  replied.  I  see  nothing  charming  in  going 
into  a  passion  with  a  man  who  tells  you  what  is  good. 

These  gentlemen,  I  said,  do  not  seem  to  be  in  your  good 
graces  ? 

No,  indeed. 

Nor  would  a  State  which  acts  like  them  stand  high  in  your 
estimation.  And  are  not  ill-governed  States  like  them,  which 
begin  by  proclaiming  to  their  citizens  that  no  one,  under  pen- 
alty of  death,  shall  alter  the  constitution  of  the  State,  while  he 
who  conforms  to  their  politics  and  most  sweetly  serves  them, 
who  indulges  them  and  fawns  upon  them  and  has  a  presenti- 
ment of  their  wishes,  and  is  skillful  in  gratifying  them,  he  is 
esteemed  as  their  good  man,  and  the  wise  and  mighty  one  who 
is  to  be  held  in  honor  by  them  ? 

Yes,  he  said  j  the  States  are  as  bad  as  the  men  ;  and  I  am 
far  from  approving  them. 

But  do  you  not  admire,  I  said,  the  coolness  and  dexterity  of 
these  ready  ministers  of  political  corruption  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  that  I  do  j  but  not  of  all  of  them,  for  there  are 
some  whom  the  applause  of  the  multitude  has  deluded  into  the 
belief  that  they  are  really  statesmen,  and  they  are  not  much  to 
be  admired. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  I  said  ;  you  should  have  more  feeling 
for  them.  When  a  man  cannot  measure,  and  a  great  many 
others  who  cannot  measure  declare  that  he  is  four  cubits  high, 
can  he  help  believing  them  ? 

He  cannot. 

Well,  then,  do  not  be  angry  with  them  ;  for  are  they  not  as 
good  as  a  play,  trying  their  hand  at  legislation,  and  always 
fancying  that  by  reforming  they  will  make  an  end  of  the  dis- 
honesties and  rascalities  of  mankind,  not  knowing  that  they 
are  in  reality  cutting  away  the  heads  of  a  hydra  ?  8 

Yes,  he  said  ;  that  is  a  very  just  description  of  them. 

I  conceive,  I  said,  that  the  true  legislator  will  not  trouble 
himself  with  enactments  of  this  sort  in  an  ill-ordered  any 
more  than  in  a  well  ordered  State  j  for  in  the  former  they  are 
useless,  and  in  the  latter  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  invent- 
ing them,  and  many  of  them  will  naturally  flow  out  of  our 
institutions. 

8  In  Greek  mythology,  a  monstrous  water-serpent  with  many  heads,  each 
of  which,  if  cut  off,  was  succeeded  by  two  others. 


260  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

What,  then,  he  said,  is  still  remaining  to  us  of  the  work  of 
legislation  ? 

Nothing  to  us,  I  replied  j  but  to  Apollo,  the  god  of  Delphi, 
there  remains  the  ordering  of  the  greatest  and  noblest  and 
chiefest  of  all. 

What  is  that  ?  he  said. 

The  institution  of  temples  and  sacrifices,  and  in  general  the 
service  of  gods,  demigods,  and  heroes ;  also  the  ordering  of 
the  repositories  of  the  dead,  and  the  rites  which  have  to  be 
observed  in  order  to  propitiate  the  inhabitants  of  the  world 
below.  For  these  are  matters  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  and 
as  foundersof  a  city  we  should  be  unwise  in  trusting  to  any  in- 
terpreter but  our  ancestral  deity.  He  is  the  god  who  sits  in 
the  centre,  on  the  navel  of  the  earth,  and  interprets  them  to 
all  mankind.9 

You  are  rigrrLhe-saTd ;  we  will  do  as  you  propose. 

But  where,-^amid  all  this,  is  justice  ?  Son  of  Ariston,  tell 
me  where.  /  Now  that  our  city  has  been  made  habitable,  light 
a  candle  aiid  search,  and  get  your  brother  and  Polemarchus, 
and  the  rest  of  our  friends,  to  help,  and  let  us  see  whether  we 
can  discover  the  place  of  justice  and  injustice,  and  discern  the 
difference  between  them,  and  find  out  which  of  them  the  man 
who  would  be  happy  should  have  as  his  portion,  whether  per- 
ceived or  unperceived  by  gods  and  men. 

Nonsense,  said  Glaucon  j  did  you  not  promise  to  search 
yourself,  saying  that  to  desert  justice  in  her  need  would  be  an 
impiety  ? 

Very  true,  I  said  ;  and  as  you  remind  me,  I  will  be  as  good 
as  my  word  ;  but  you  must  join. 

That  we  will,  he  replied. 

Well,  then,  I  hope  to  make  the  discovery  in  this  way.  I 
mean  to  proceed  by  a  method  of  residues,  beginning  with  the 
assumption  that  our  State,  if  rightly  ordered,  is  perfect. 

That  is  most  certain. 

And  being  perfect,  our  State  is  wise  and  valiant  and  tem- 
perate and  just. 

That  is  also  clear. 

9  It  was  customary  to  consult  the  oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  (see  Apology, 
note  12),  about  the  founding  of  cities.  "  Delphi,  or  rather  a  round  stone  in 
the  Delphic  temple,  was  called  navel,  as  marking  the  middle  point  of  the 
earth."     (L.  and  S.)  j 


THE  REPUBLIC  261 

And  of  whatever  is  known,  that  which  is  unknown  will  be 
the  residue ;  this  is  the  next  step. 

Very  good. 

Suppose  the  number  of  terms  to  be  four,  and  we  were 
searching  for  one  of  them,  that  one  might  be  known  to  us  at 
first,  and  there  would  be  no  further  trouble ;  or,  if  we  knew 
the  other  three  first,  and  could  eliminate  them,  then  the  fourth 
would  clearly  be  the  remainder. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  is  not  this  the  method  to  be  pursued  about  the  virtues, 
which  are  also  four  in  number  ? 

Clearly. 

First  among  the  virtues  found  in  the  State  wisdom  comes 
into  view,  and  in  this  I  detect  a  certain  peculiarity. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  State  that  we  have  been  describing  is  said  to  be  wise  as 
being  good  in  counsel :   that  is  true? 

Yes. 

And  good  counsel  is  clearly  a  kind  of  knowledge,  for  not  by 
ignorance,  but  by  knowledge,  do  men  counsel  well  ? 

Clearly. 

And  the  kinds  of  knowledge  in  a  State  are  many  and  di- 
verse ? 

Of  course. 

There  is  the  knowledge  of  the  carpenter ;  but  is  that  the 
sort  of  knowledge  which  gives  a  city  the  title  of  wise  and  good 
in  counsel  ? 

Certainly  not ;  that  would  only  give  a  city  the  reputation 
of  skill  in  carpentering. 

Then  a  city  is  not  to  be  called  wise  because  possessed  of 
knowledge  which  counsels  for  the  best  about  wooden  imple- 
ments ? 

Certainly  not. 

Nor  by  reason  of  a  knowledge  which  advises  about  brazen 
implements,  I  said,  nor  as  possessing  any  other  similar  knowl- 
edge? 

Not  by  reason  of  any  of  them,  he  said. 

Nor  by  reason  of  agricultural  knowledge;  that  would  give 
the  city  the  name  of  agriculture? 

Yes,  that  is  what  I  should  suppose. 

Well,  I  said,  and  is  there  any  knowledge  in  our  recently- 


262  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

founded  State  among  any  of  the  citizens  which  advises,  not 
about  any  particular  thing  in  the  State,  but  about  the  whole 
State,  and  considers  what  may  be  regarded  as  the  best  policy, 
both  internal  and  external  ? 

There  certainly  is. 

And  what  is  this  knowledge,  and  among  whom  found  ?  I 
asked. 

This  is  the  knowledge  of  the  guardians,  he  replied,  and  is 
found  among  those  whom  we  were  just  now  describing  as  per- 
fect guardians. 

And  is  there  any  name  which  the  city  derives  from  the  pos- 
session of  this  sort  of  knowledge  ? 

The  name  of  good  in  counsel  and  truly  wise. 

And  do  you  suppose  that  there  will  be  as  many  of  these  true 
guardians  as  there  are  blacksmiths  in  a  city  ? 

No,  he  replied  j  the  blacksmiths  will  be  far  more  numer- 
ous. 

Will  they  not  be  the  smallest  of  all  the  classes  who  receive 
a  name  from  the  profession  of  some  kind  of  knowledge  ? 

Much  the  smallest. 

And  by  reason  of  this  smallest  part  or  class  of  a  State,  which 
is  the  governing  and  presiding  class,  and  of  the  knowledge 
which  resides  in  them,  the  whole  State,  being  in  the 
order  of  nature,  will  be  called  wise  ;  and  nature  appears 
to  have  ordained  that  this,  which  has  the  only  knowledge 
worthy  to  be  called  knowledge,  should  be  the  smallest  of  all 
classes. 

Most  true,  he  said. 

Thus,  then,  I  said,  the  nature  and  place  in  the  State  of  one 
of  the  four  virtues  has  somehow  been  discovered. 

I  am  sure,  he  said,  that  the  discovery  is  to  my  mind  quite 
satisfactory. 

Again,  I  said,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  seeing  the  nature  of 
courage,  and  in  what  part  that  quality  resides  which  gives  the 
name  of  courageous  to  the  State.        \ 

How  do  you  mean  ? 

Why,  I  said,  every  one  who  calls  any  State  courageous  or 
cowardly,  will  be  thinking  of  that  part  which  fights  and  goes 
to  battle  on  the  State's  behalf. 

No  one,  he  replied,  would  ever  think  of  any  other. 

The  rest  of  the  citizens  may  be    courageous  or    may  be 


THE   REPUBLIC  263 

cowardly,  but  that,  as  I  conceive,  will  not  have  the  effect  of 
making  the  city  either  one  or  the  other. 

Certainly  not. 

The  city  will  be  courageous  in  virtue  of  a  portion  of  the  city 
in  which  there  resides  a  never-failing  quality  preservative  of  the 
opinion  which  the  legislator  inculcated  about  the  right  sort  of 
fear ;  and  this  is  what  you  term  courage. 

I  should  like  to  hear  what  you  are  saying  once  more,  for  I 
do  not  think  that  I  perfectly  understand  you. 

I  mean,  I  said,  that  courage  is  a  kind  of  preservation. 

What  kind  of  preservation  ? 

The  preservation,  I  said,  of  the  opinion  about  the  nature  and 
manner  of  dangers  which  the  law  implants  through  education; 
and  I  mean  by  the  word  "  never-failing,"  to  intimate  that  in 
pleasure  or  in  pain,  or  under  the  influence  of  desire  or  fear,  a 
man  preserves,  and  does  not  lose  this  opinion.  Shall  I  give 
you  an  illustration  of  my  meaning  ? 

If  you  will. 

You  know,  I  said,  that  the  dyers,  when  they  want  to  dye 
wool  for  making  the  true  sea- purple,  begin  by  selecting  their 
white  color  first ;  this  they  prepare  and  dress  with  no  slight 
circumstance,  in  order  that  the  white  ground  may  take  the  pur- 
ple hue  in  full  perfection.  The  dyeing  then  proceeds  ;  and 
whatever  is  dyed  in  this  manner  becomes  a  fast  color,  and  no 
washing  with  lyes  or  without  lyes  can  take  away  the  bloom  of 
the  color.  I  dare  say  that  you  know  how  these,  or  indeed 
any  colors,  look  when  the  ground  has  not  been  duly  pre- 
pared ? 

Yes,  he  said ;  I  know  that  they  have  a  washed-out  and  ridic- 
ulous appearance. 

Then  now,  I  said,  you  will  understand  what  our  object  was  in 
selecting  our  soldiers,  and  educating  them  in  music  and  gym- 
nastic ;  we  were  contriving  influences  which  would  pre- 
pare  them  to  take  the  dye  of  the  laws  in  perfection,  and 
the  color  of  their  opinions  about  dangers  and  every  other  opin- 
ion was  to  be  indelibly  fixed  by  their  nurture  and  training, 
and  not  to  be  washed  away  by  any  such  potent  lyes  as  pleas- 
ure,—  mightier  agent  far  in  washing  the  soul  than  any  soda 
or  lye ;  and  sorrow,  fear,  and  desire  mightier  solvents  than 
any  others.  And  this  sort  of  universal  preserving  power  of 
true  opinion  in  conformity  with  law  about  real  and  false  dan- 


264  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

gers,  I  call  and  maintain  to  be  courage,  unless  you  can  suggest 
another  view. 

But  I  have  no  other  to  suggest,  and  I  suppose  that  you  mean 
to  exclude  mere  uninstructed  courage,  such  as  that  of  a  wild 
beast  or  of  a  slave, — this,  in  your  judgment,  is  not  courage  in 
conformity  with  law,  and  ought  to  have  another  name. 

That  is  as  you  say. 

Then  I  may  infer  that  this  is  courage  ? 

Why,  yes,  said  I,  that  you  may  infer,  and  if  you  add  the 
word  "political,"  you  will  not  be  far  wrong:  hereafter  we 
may  pursue  that  inquiry  further,  but  at  present  we  are  seeking 
not  for  courage  but  justice,  and  with  a  view  to  this  there  is 
nothing  more  wanted. 

You  are  right,  he  replied. 

Two  virtues  remain  to  be  discovered  in  the  State, — first, 
temperance,  and  then  justice,  which  is  the  great  object  of  our 
search. 

Very  true. 

Now,  can  we  find  justice  without  troubling  ourselves  about 
temperance  ? 

I  do  not  know  how  that  can  be  accomplished,  he  said,  nor 
do  I  desire  that  justice  should  be  brought  to  light,  and  tem- 
perance lost  sight  of;  and  therefore  I  wish  you  would  do  me 
the  favor  of  considering  temperance  first. 

Certainly,  I  replied,  I  cannot  be  wrong  in  granting  you  a 
favor. 

Then  do  as  I  ask,  he  said. 

Yes,  I  replied,  I  will  do  as  you  ask,  and  next  consider  tem- 
perance ;  this,  as  far  as  I  can  see  at  present,  has  more  of  the 
nature  of  symphony  and  harmony  than  the  preceding. 

How  is  that  ?  he  asked. 

Temperance,  I  replied,  is,  as  I  conceive,  a  sort  of  order  and 
control  of  certain  pleasures  and  desires  ;  this  is  implied  in  the 
saying  of  a  man  being  his  own  master;  and  there  are  other 
traces  of  the  same  notion. 

No  doubt,  he  said. 

There  is  something  ridiculous  in  the  expression  "master  of 
himself;  "  for  the  master  is  also  the  slave  and  the  slave  the 
master ;  and  in  all  these  modes  of  speaking  the  same 
4         person  is  predicated. 

Certainly. 


THE    REPUBLIC  •  265 

But  the  real  meaning  of  the  expression,  I  believe,  is  that  the 
human  soul  has  a  better  principle,  and  has  also  a  worse  prin- 
ciple ;  and  when  the  better  principle  controls  the  worse,  then 
a  man  is  said  to  be  master  of  himself;  and  this  is  certainly  a 
term  of  praise:  but  when,  owing  to  evil  education  or  associa- 
tion, the  better  principle,  which  is  less,  is  overcome  by  the 
worse  principle,  which  is  greater,  this  is  censured ;  and  he 
who  is  in  this  case  is  called  the  slave  of  self  and  unprin- 
cipled. 

Yes,  he  said,  there  is  reason  in  that. 

And  now,  I  said,  look  at  our  newly-created  State,  and  there 
you  will  find  one  of  these  two  conditions  realized  j  for  the 
State,  as  you  will  acknowledge,  may  be  justly  called  master  of 
self,  if  the  words  temperance  and  self-mastery  truly  express  the 
rule  of  the  better  over  the  worse. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  have  looked,  and  perceive  the  truth  of  what 
you  say. 

Moreover,  I  said,  the  pleasures  and  desires  and  pains,  which 
are  many  and  various,  are  found  in  children  and  women  and 
servants,  and  in  the  lower  classes  of  the  free  citizens. 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Whereas  the  simple  and  moderate  desires  which  follow  rea- 
son, and  are  under  the  guidance  of  mind  and  true  opinion,  are 
confined  to  a  few,  being  those  who  are  the  best  born  and  the 
best  educated. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  these  also,  I  said,  as  you  may  perceive,  have  a  place  in 
our  State,  but  the  meaner  desires  of  the  many  are  held  down 
by  the  virtuous  desires  and  wisdom  of  the  few. 

That  1  perceive,  he  said. 

Then  if  there  be  any  city  which  may  be  described  as  master 
of  pleasures  and  desires,  and  master  of  self,  ours  may  claim 
that  designation? 

Certainly,  he  replied. 

And  also  that  of  temperate,  and  for  the  same  reasons  ? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  if  there  be  any  State  in  which  rulers  and  subjects  will 
be  agreed  about  the  question  who  are  to  rule,  that  again  will 
be  our  State  ? 

No  doubt  at  all  of  that. 

And  the  citizens  being  thus  agreed  among  themselves,  in 


266  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

which  class  will  temperance  be  found, — in  the  rulers  or  in  the 
subjects  ? 

In  both,  as  I  should  imagine,  he  replied. 

Do  you  observe,  I  said,  that  we  were  pretty  right  in  our  an- 
ticipation that  temperance  was  a  sort  of  harmony? 

Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

Why,  because  temperance  is  unlike  courage  and  wisdom,  each 
of  which  resides  in  a  portion  of  the  State  only,  which  the  one 
makes  wise  and  the  other  valiant ;  but  that  is  not  the  way 
with  temperance,  which  extends  to  the  whole,  and  runs 
through  the  notes  of  the  scale,  and  produces  a  harmony  of  the 
weaker  and  the  stronger  and  the  middle  class,  whether  you 
suppose  them  to  be  stronger  or  weaker  in  wisdom  or  strength 
or  numbers  or  wealth,  or  whatever  else  may  be  the  measure  of 
them.  Most  truly,  then,  do  we  describe  temperance  as  the 
natural  harmony  of  master  and  slaves,  both  in  States  and  in- 
dividuals, in  which  the  subjects  are  as  willing  to  obey  as  the 
governors  are  to  rule. 

I  entirely  agree  with  you. 

And  so,  I  said,  three  of  the  virtues  have  been  discovered  in 
our  State,  and  this  is  the  form  in  which  they  appear.  There 
remains  the  last  element  of  virtue  in  a  State,  which  must  be 
justice,  if  we  only  knew  what  that  was. 

That,  he  said,  is  obvious. 

The  time  then  has  arrived,  Glaucon,  when,  like  huntsmen, 
we  should  surround  the  cover,  and  look  sharp  that  justice  does 
not  slip  away,  and  pass  out  of  sight,  and  get  lost ;  for  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  we  are  in  the  right  direction  ;  only  try  and 
get  a  sight  of  her,  and  if  you  come  within  view  first,  let  me 
know. 

I  wish  that  there  were  any  chance  of  that,  he  said  ;  but  I 
believe  that  you  will  find  in  me  a  follower  who  has  just  eyes 
enough  to  see  what  you  show  him  j  that  is  as  much  as  I  am 
good  for. 

Offer  up  a  prayer,  I  said,  and  follow. 

I  will  follow,  he  said,  but  you  must  show  me  the  way. 

Here  is  no  path,  I  said,  and  the  wood  is  dark  and  perplex- 
ing, still  we  must  push  on. 

Let  us  push  on  then. 

Halloo  !  I  said,  I  begin  to  perceive  indications  of  a  track,  and 
I  believe  that  the  quarry  will  not  escape. 


THE  REPUBLIC  267 

That  is  good  news,  he  said. 

Truly,  I  said,  we  are  very  stupid. 

Why  so  ? 

Why,  my  good  sir,  I  said,  when  we  first  began,  ages  ago, 
there  lay  justice  rolling  at  our  feet,  and  we,  fools  that  we  were, 
failed  to  see  her,  like  people  who  go  about  looking  for  what 
they  have  in  their  hands  :  And  that  was  the  way  with  us ;  we 
looked  away  into  the  far  distance,  and  I  suspect  this  to  have 
been  the  reason  why  we  missed  her. 

What  do  you  mean? 

I  mean  to  say  that  we  have  already  had  her  on  our  lips  and 
in  our  ears,  and  failed  to  recognize  her. 

I  get  impatient  at  the  length  of  your  exordium. 

Well,  then,  say  whether  I  am  right  or  not ;  you  will  re- 
member the  original  principle  of  which  we  spoke  at  the  foun- 
dation of  the  State,  that  every  man,  as  we  often  insisted, 
should  practice  one  thing  only,  that  being  the  thing    4 
to  which  his  nature  was  most  perfectly  adapted  ;  now  justice 
is  either  this  or  a  part  of  this. 

Yes,  that  was  often  repeated  by  us. 

Further,  we  affirmed  that  justice  was  doing  one's  own  busi- 
ness, and  not  being  a  busybody ;  that  was  often  said  by  us, 
and  many  others  have  said  the  same. 

Yes,  that  was  said  by  us. 

Then  this  doing  one's  own  business  in  a  certain  way  may  be 
assumed  to  be  justice.     Do  you  know  why  I  say  this  ? 

I  do  not,  and  should  like  to  be  told. 

Because  I  think  that  this  alone  remains  in  the  State  when 
the  other  virtues  of  temperance  and  courage  and  wisdom  are 
abstracted  j  and  this  is  the  ultimate  cause  and  condition  of  the 
existence  of  all  of  them,  and  while  remaining  in  them  is  also 
their  preservative ;  and  we  were  saying  that  if  the  three  were 
discovered  by  us,  justice  would  be  the  fourth  or  remaining  one. 

That  follows  of  necessity. 

Still,  I  said,  if  a  question  should  arise  as  to  which  of  these 
four  qualities  contributed  most  by  their  presence  to  the  excel- 
lence of  the  State,  whether  the  agreement  of  rulers  and  sub- 
jects, or  the  preservation  in  the  soldiers  of  the  opinion  which 
the  law  ordains  about  the  true  nature  of  dangers,  or  wisdom 
and  watchfulness  in  the  rulers  would  claim  the  palm,  or 
whether  this  which  I  am  about  to  mention,  and  which  is  found 


268  PLATO  THE   TEACHER 

in  children  and  women,  bond  and  free,  artisan,  ruler,  subject, 
is  not  the  one  which  conduces  most  to  the  excellence  of  the 
State, — this  quality,  I  mean,  of  every  one  doing  his  own  work, 
and  not  being  a  busybody, — the  question  would  not  be  easily 
determined. 

Certainly,  he  replied,  that  would  be  difficult  to  determine. 

Then  the  power  of  each  individual  in  the  State  to  do  his 
own  work  appears  to  compete  in  the  scale  of  political  virtue 
with  wisdom,  temperance,  and  courage? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  the  virtue  which  enters  into  this  competition  is  justice  ? 

Exactly. 

Look  at  this  in  another  light.  Are  not  the  rulers  in  a  State 
those  to  whom  you  would  entrust  the  office  of  determining 
causes  ? 

Certainly. 

And  they  will  decide  on  the  principle  that  individuals  are 
neither  to  take  what  is  another's  nor  to  be  deprived  of  what  is 
their  own  ;  that  will  be  the  principle  at  which  they  will  aim  ? 

Yes;  that  will  be  their  principle. 

And  that  is  a  just  principle? 

Yes. 

Then  on  this  view  also  justice  will  be  admitted  to  be  the 
having  and  doing  what  is  a  man's  own,  and  belongs  to  him  ? 

That  is  true. 

Think,  now,  and  say  whether  you  agree  with  me.  Suppose 
a  carpenter  to  be  doing  the  business  of  a  cobbler,  or  a  cobbler 
of  a  carpenter  j  and  suppose  them  to  exchange  imple- 
ments or  prerogatives,  or  the  same  person  to  be  doing 
the  work  of  both  ;  do  you  think  that  any  great  harm  would 
happen  to  the  State? 

Not  at  all,  he  said. 

But  when  the  cobbler  leaves  his  last,  and  he  or  any  other 
whom  nature  designed  to  be  a  trader,  and  whose  heart  is  lifted 
up  by  wealth  or  strength  or  numbers,  or  any  like  advantage, 
attempts  to  force  his  way  into  the  class  of  warriors,  or  a  war- 
rior into  that  of  legislators  and  guardians,  for  which  he  is  un- 
fitted, or  when  one  man  is  trader,  legislator,  and  warrior  all  at 
once,  then  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  this  inter- 
change of  duties  and  implements  and  this  meddling  of  one 
with  another  is  the  ruin  of  the  State. 


THE   REPUBLIC  269 

Most  true. 

Then,  said  I,  as  there  are  three  distinct  classes,  any  med- 
dling of  them  with  one  another,  or  the  change  of  one  into  an- 
other, is  the  greatest  harm  to  the  State,  and  may  be  most  justly 
termed  evil-doing? 

Precisely. 

And  the  greatest  degree  of  evil-doing  to  one's  own  city  you 
would  characterize  as  injustice? 

Certainly. 

This  then  is  injustice ;  and  let  us  once  more  repeat  the 
thesis  in  the  opposite  form.  When  the  trader,  the  auxiliary, 
and  the  guardian  do  their  own  business,  that  is  justice,  and 
will  make  the  city  just. 

I  think  that  is  true,  he  said. 

Let  us  not,  I  said,  be  over-positive  as  yet ;  but  if,  on  trial, 
this  conception  of  justice  be  verified  in  the  individual  as  well 
as  in  the  State,  then  there  will  be  no  longer  any  room  for 
doubt ;  but,  if  not,  there  must  be  another  inquiry.  At  pres- 
ent, however,  let  us  finish  the  old  investigation,  which  we  be- 
gan, as  you  remember,  under  the  impression  that,  if  we  could 
first  examine  justice  on  the  larger  scale,  there  would  be  less 
difficulty  in  recognizing  her  in  the  individual.  That  larger 
example  appeared  to  be  the  State,  and  we  made  the  best  that 
we  could,  knowing  well  that  in  the  good  State  justice  would 
be  found  to  exist.  Let  us  now  apply  what  we  found  there  to 
the  individual,  and  if  they  agree,  well  and  good  ;  or,  if  there 
be  a  difference  in  the  individual,  we  will  come  back  to  the 
State  and  have  another  trial  of  the  theory.  The  friction  of 
the  two  when  rubbed  together  may  possibly  strike  a 
light  in  which  justice  will  shine  forth,  and  the  vision  4  5 
which  is  then  revealed  we  will  fix  in  our  souls. 

That  is  the  right  way,  he  said ;  let  us  do  as  you  say. 

I  proceeded  to  ask  :  When  two  things,  a  greater  and  less, 
are  called  by  the  same  name,  are  they  like  or  unlike  in  so  far 
as  they  are  called  the  same  ? 

Like,  he  replied. 

The  just  man  then,  in  being  just,  and  in  reference  to  the 
mere  principle  of  justice,  will  be  like  the  just  State? 

He  will. 

And  a  State  was  thought  by  us  to  be  just  when  the  three 
classes  in  the  State  did  their  own  business ;  and  also  thought 


270  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

to  be  temperate  and  valiant  and  wise  by  reason  of  certain 
other  affections  and  qualities  of  these  same  classes  ? 

True,  he  said. 

And  so  of  the  individual ;  we  shall  be  right  in  arguing  that 
he  has  these  same  principles  in  his  own  soul,  and  may  fairly 
receive  the  same  appellations  as  possessing  the  affections  which 
correspond  to  them  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Once  more  then,  O  my  friend,  we  have  alighted  upon  an 
easy  question — whether  the  soul  has  these  three  principles  or 
not? 

An  easy  question  !  Nay,  rather,  Socrates,  the  proverb  holds 
that  hard  is  the  good. 

Very  true,  I  said ;  and  I  confess  that  the  method  which  we 
are  employing,  in  my  judgment,  seems  to  be  altogether  inade- 
quate to  the  accurate  solution  of  this  question ;  for  the  true 
method  is  another  and  a  longer  one.  Still  we  may  arrive  at  a 
solution  not  below  the  level  of  the  previous  inquiry. 

May  we  not  be  satisfied  with  that  ?  he  said  :  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, I  am  quite  content. 

I  too,  I  replied,  shall  be  extremely  well  satisfied. 

Then  faint  not  in  pursuing  the  speculation,  he  said. 

Can  I  be  wrong,  I  said,  in  acknowledging  that  in  the  indi- 
vidual there  are  the  same  principles  and  habits  which  there  are 
in  the  State  ?  for  if  they  did  not  pass  from  one  to  the  other, 
whence  did  they  come  ?  Take  the  quality  of  spirit  or  passion  ; 
there  would  be  something  ridiculous  in  thinking  that  this  qual- 
ity, which  is  characteristic  of  the  Thracians,  Scythians,10  and 
in  general  of  the  northern  nations,  when  found  in  States,  does 
not  originate  in  the  individuals  who  compose  them  ;  and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  the  love  of  knowledge,  which  is  the  special 
characteristic  of  our  part  of  the  world,  or  the  love  of 
430-  money,  which  may,  with  equal  truth,  be  attributed  to 
the  Phoenicians  and  Egyptians.11 

Exactly,  he  said. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  understanding  this. 

10  The  names  Thracia  (thra'shi-a)  and  Scythia  (Sy'thf-a)  were  applied  to 
various  regions  at  different  periods.  Here  the  reference  is  probably  to  re- 
gions on  the  west  and  north  coasts  of  the  Black  Sea,  whose  inhabitants  were 
semi-civilized,  fierce,  and  war-like. 

11  The  Phoenicians  and  Egyptians  were  the  principal  commercial  peoples 
of  antiquity  with  whom  the  Greeks  were  acquainted. 


THE  REPUBLIC  271 

None  whatever. 

But  the  difficulty  begins  as  soon  as  we  raise  the  question 
whether  these  principles  are  three  or  one ;  whether,  that  is  to 
say,  we  learn  with  one  part  of  our  nature,  are  angry  with  an- 
other, and  with  a  third  part  desire  the  satisfaction  of  our  natural 
appetites ;  or  whether  the  whole  soul  comes  into  play  in  each 
sort  of  action — to  determine  that  is  the  difficulty. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  difficulty. 

Then  let  us  now  try  and  determine  whether  they  are  the 
same  or  different. 

[The  same  thing  cannot  at  the  same  time,  with  the  same 
part,  act  in  contrary  ways,  about  the  same.  If  therefore  we 
find  in  ourselves  a  principle  which  impels  us  to  eat  and  drink 
and  indulge  in  other  passions,  and  another  principle  which  at 
the  same  time  restrains  us  from  these  indulgences,  these  two 
principles,  the  impelling  and  the  restraining,  must  be  distinct. 
The  principle  which  impels  us  we  may  call  the  irrational  or 
appetitive,  and  the  principle  which  restrains  we  may  call  the 
rational.     Socrates  continues  :] 

Then  let  these  be  marked  out  as  the  two  principles  which 
there  are  existing  in  the  soul. 

And  what  shall  we  say  of  passion,  or  spirit  ?  Is  that  a  third, 
or  akin  to  one  of  the  preceding  ? 

I  should  be  inclined  to  say — akin  to  desire. 

Well,  I  said,  there  is  a  story  which  I  remember  to  have 
heard,  and  on  which  I  rely.  The  story  is  that  Leontius,  the 
son  of  Aglaion,12  was  coming  up  from  the  Piraeus,  under  the 
north  wall  on  the  outside,  and  observed  some  dead  bodies 
lying  on  the  ground  by  the  executioner.  He  felt  a  longing 
desire  to  see  them,  and  also  a  disgust  and  abhorrence  of  them  ; 
for  a  time  he  turned  away  and  averted  his  eyes,  and  then, 
suddenly  overcome  by  the  impulse,  forced  them  open, 
and  ran  up,  saying  (to  his  eyes),  Take  your  fill,  ye  wretches, 
of  the  fair  sight. 

I  have  heard  the  story  myself,  he  said. 

Now  this  seems  to  imply  that  anger  differs  from  the  desires, 
and  is  sometimes  at  war  with  them. 

That  is  implied,  he  said. 

M  Leontius  (le-6n'shf-us).    Aglaion  (ag-H'yon). 


272  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

And  are  there  not  many  other  cases  in  which  we  observe 
that,  when  a  man's  desires  violently  prevail  over  his  reason,  he 
reviles  himself,  and  is  angry  at  the  violence  within  him,  and 
that  in  this  struggle,  which  is  like  the  struggle  of  actions  in  a 
State,  his  spirit  is  on  the  side  of  his  reason.  But  that  the 
passionate  or  spirited  element  should  side  with  the  desires 
when  reason  decides  that  she  is  not  to  be  opposed,  this  sort 
of  thing,  I  believe,  you  will  say  that  you  never  observed  oc- 
curring in  yourself,  nor,  as  I  think,  in  any  one  else? 

Certainly  not,  he  said. 

Suppose,  I  said,  that  a  man  thinks  he  has  done  a  wrong  to 
another  :  the  nobler  he  is  the  less  able  he  is  to  get  into  a  state 
of  righteous  indignation  ;  his  anger  refuses  to  be  excited  at  the 
hunger  or  cold  or  other  suffering,  which  he  deems  that  the  in- 
jured person  may  justly  inflict  upon  him  ? 

True,  he  said. 

But  when  he  thinks  that  he  is  the  sufferer  of  the  wrong,  then 
he  boils  and  chafes,  and  is  on  the  side  of  what  he  believes  to 
be  justice  ;  and  because  he  suffers  hunger  or  cold  or  other  pain 
he  is  only  the  more  determined  to  persevere  and  conquer ;  he 
must  do  or  die,  and  will  not  desist,  until  he  hears  the  voice  of 
the  shepherd,  that  is,  reason,  bidding  his  dog  bark  no  more. 

That  is  a  very  good  illustration,  he  replied ;  and  in  our. 
State  as  we  were  saying,  the  auxiliaries  were  to  be  dogs,  and 
to  hear  the  voice  of  the  rulers,  who  are  their  shepherds. 

I  perceive,  I  said,  that  you  quite  understand  me  ;  there  is, 
however,  a  further  point  which  I  would  wish  you  to  consider. 

What  may  that  be  ? 

You  remember  that  passion  or  spirit  appeared  at  first  sight 
to  be  a  sort  of  desire,  but  now  we  should  say  the  contrary  ; 
for  in  the  conflict  of  the  soul  spirit  is  arrayed  on  the  side  of 
the  rational  principle. 

Most  assuredly. 

But  a  further  question  arises.  Is  spirit  different  from  reason 
also,  or  only  a  sort  of  reason  ;  in  which  case,  instead  of  three 
principles  in  the  soul,  there  will  be  only  two,  the  rational  and 
the  concupiscent ;  or  rather,  as  the  State  was  composed 
of  three  classes,  traders,  auxiliaries,  counsellors,  so  may 
there  not  be  in  the  individual  soul  a  third  element  which  is 
passion  or  spirit,  and  which  is  the  auxiliary  of  reason  when 
not  corrupted  by  education? 


THE   REPUBLIC  273 

Yes,  he  said,  there  must  be  a  third. 

Yes,  I  replied,  if  passion,  which  has  already  been  shown  to 
be  different  from  desire,  turn  out  also  to  be  different  from 
reason. 

But  that  is  obvious,  he  said,  and  is  proved  in  the  case  of 
young  children,  who  are  full  of  spirit  almost  as  soon  as  they 
are  born,  whereas  some  of  them  never  seem  to  attain  to  the 
use  of  reason,  and  a  good  many  only  late  in  life. 

Excellent,  I  said,  and  the  same  thing  is  seen  in  brute  animals, 
which  is  a  further  proof  of  the  truth  of  what  you  are  saying. 
And  Homer,  whose  words  we  have  already  quoted,  may  be 
again  summoned  as  a  witness,  where  he  says, — 

"  He  smote  his  breast,  and  thus  rebuked  his  soul;  " 

for  in  those  lines  Homer  has  clearly  supposed  the  power  which 
reasons  about  the  better  and  worse  to  be  different  from  the 
unreasoning  principle  which  is  the  subject  of  the  rebuke. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

And  now,  after  much  tossing  in  the  argument,  we  have 
reached  land,  and  are  fairly  agreed  that  the  principles  which 
exist  in  the  State,  like  those  in  the  individual,  are  three  in 
number,  and  the  same  with  them. 

Exactly. 

And  must  we  not  infer  that  the  individual  is  wise  in  the 
same  way,  and  in  virtue  of  the  same  quality  which  makes  the 
State  wise  ? 

Certainly. 

And  the  same  quality  which  constitutes  bravery  in  the  State 
constitutes  bravery  in  the  individual,  and  the  same  is  true  of 
all  the  other  virtues  ? 

Assuredly. 

And  the  individual  will  be  acknowledged  by  us  to  be  just 
in  the  same  way  that  the  State  was  just  ? 

That  will  also  follow  of  course. 

And  the  justice  of  the  State  consisted,  as  we  very  well  re- 
member, in  each  of  the  three  classes  doing  the  work  of  that 
class? 

We  are  not  very  likely  to  forget  that,  he  said. 

And  we  must  also  remember  that  the  individual  whose  sev- 
eral principles  do  their  own  work  will  be  just,  and  will  do  his 
own  work  ? 
18 


274  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Yes,  he  said,  we  must  remember  that. 

And  ought  not  the  rational  principle,  which  is  wise,  and  has 
the  care  of  the  whole  soul,  to  rule,  and  the  passionate  or  spir- 
ited principle  to  be  the  subject  and  ally? 

Certainly. 

And,   as   you  were  saying,  the  harmonizing  influence  of 

music  and  gymnastic  will  bring  them  into  accord,  nerving  and 

educating  the  reason  with  noble  words  and  lessons,  and 

softening  and  consoling  and  civilizing  the  wildness  of 

passion  with  harmony  and  rhythm  ? 

Quite  true,  he  said. 

And  these  two,  thus  nurtured  and  educated,  and  having 
learned  truly  to  know  their  own  functions,  will  set  a  rule  over 
the  concupiscent  part  of  every  man,  which  is  the  largest  and 
most  insatiable ;  over  this  they  will  set  a  guard,  lest,  waxing 
great  with  the  fullness  of  bodily  pleasures,  as  they  are  termed, 
and  no  longer  confined  to  her  own  sphere,  the  concupiscent 
soul  should  attempt  to  enslave  and  rule  those  who  are  not  her 
natural-born  subjects,  and  overturn  the  whole  life  of  man  ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

The  two  will  be  the  defenders  of  the  whole  soul  and  the 
whole  body  against  attacks  from  without;  the  one  counseling, 
and  the  other  fighting  under  the  command  of  their  leader,  and 
courageously  executing  his  counsels. 

True. 

And  he  is  to  be  deemed  courageous  who,  having  the  element 
of  passion  working  in  him,  preserves,  in  the  midst  of  pain  and 
pleasure,  the  notion  of  danger  which  reason  prescribes  ? 

Right,  he  replied. 

And  he  is  wise  who  has  in  him  that  little  part  which  rules 
and  gives  orders  j  that  part  being  supposed  to  have  a  knowl- 
edge of  what  is  for  the  interest  of  each  and  all  of  the  three 
parts? 

Assuredly. 

And  would  you  not  say  that  he  is  temperate  who  has  these 
same  elements  in  friendly  harmony,  in  whom  the  one  ruling 
principle  of  reason,  and  the  two  subject  ones  of  spirit  and 
desire  are  equally  agreed  that  reason  ought  to  rule,  and  do  not 
rebel  ? 

Certainly,  he  said,  that  is  the  true  account  of  temperance 
whether  in  the  State  or  individual. 


THE   REPUBLIC  275 

And  surely,  I  said,  a  man  will  be  just  in  the  manner  of 
which  we  have  several  times  already  spoken  and  no  other  ? 

That  is  very  certain. 

And  is  the  edge  of  justice  blunted  in  the  individual,  or  is 
there  any  reason  why  our  definition  of  justice  should  not  apply 
equally  to  the  individual  and  to  the  State? 

None  in  my  judgment,  he  said. 

Because,  I  said,  if  any  doubt  is  still  lingering  in  our  minds, 
a  few  commonplace  instances  will  satisfy  us  of  the  truth  of 
this. 

What  sort  of  instances  do  you  mean  ? 

Why,  for  example,  I  said,  who  would  imagine  that  the  just 
State,  or  the  man  who  is  trained  in  the  principles  of  such  a 
State,  would  be  more  likely  than  the  unjust  to  make 
away  with  a  deposit  of  gold  or  silver  ? 

No  one,  as  I  should  suppose,  he  replied. 

Will  such  an  one,  I  said,  ever  be  guilty  of  sacrilege  or  theft, 
or  treachery  either  to  his  friends  or  to  his  country  ? 

That  will  be  far  from  him. 

Neither  will  he  ever  break  faith  where  there  have  been  oaths 
or  agreements  ? 

Impossible. 

No  one  will  be  less  likely  to  commit  adultery,  or  to  dis- 
honor his  father  and  mother,  or  to  fail  in  his  religious  duties  ? 

No  one. 

And  the  reason  of  this  is  that  each  part  of  him  is  doing  his 
own  business,  whether  in  ruling  or  being  ruled  ? 

That  is  the  truth. 

Are  you  satisfied  then  that  the  quality  which  makes  such 
men  and  such  States  is  justice,  or  do  you  hope  to  discover  some 
other  ? 

Not  I,  indeed. 

Then  our  dream  has  been  realized  ;  and  as  we  were  saying 
at  the  beginning  of  our  work  of  construction,  some  divine 
power  must  have  conducted  us  to  a  sort  of  first  principle  or 
form  of  justice — that  suspicion  of  ours  has  been  now  verified? 

Yes,  certainly. 

And  the  division  of  labor  which  required  the  carpenter  and 
the  shoemaker  and  the  rest  of  the  citizens  to  be  doing  each 
his  own  business,  and  not  another's,  was  a  kind  of  shadow  of 
justice,  and  therefore  of  use  ? 


276  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Clearly. 

And  justice  was  the  reality  of  which  this  was  the  semblance, 
dealing,  however,  not  with  the  outward  man,  but  with  the  in- 
ward, which  is  the  true  self  and  concernment  of  a  man  :  for 
the  just  man  does  not  permit  the  several  elements  within  him 
to  meddle  with  one  another,  or  any  of  them  to  do  the  work  of 
others,  but  he  sets  in  order  his  own  inner  life,  and  is  his  own 
master,  and  at  peace  with  himself;  and  when  he  has  bound 
together  the  three  principles  within  him,  which  may  be  com- 
pared to  the  middle,  higher,  and  lower  divisions  of  the  scale, 
and  the  intermediate  intervals — when  he  has  bound  together 
all  these,  and  is  no  longer  many,  but  has  become  one  entirely 
temperate  and  perfectly  adjusted  nature,  then  he  will  begin  to 
act,  if  he  has  to  act,  whether  in  a  matter  of  property,  or  in 
the  treatment  of  the  body,  or  some  affair  of  politics  or  private 
business ;  in  all  which  cases  he  will  think  and  call  just  and 
good  action  that  which  preserves  and  cooperates  with  this  con- 
dition, and  the  knowledge  which  presides  over  this  wisdom  j 
and  unjust  action,  that  which  at  any  time  destroys  this,  and 
the  opinion  which  presides  over  unjust  action,  igno- 
rance. 

That  is  the  precise  truth,  Socrates. 

Very  good  j  and  if  we  were  to  say  that  we  had  discovered 
the  just  man  and  the  just  State,  and  the  place  of  justice  in  each 
of  them,  that  would  not  be  a  very  vain  boast  ? 

No,  indeed. 

May  we  be  so  bold  then  as  to  say  this  ? 

Let  us  be  so  bold,  he  replied. 

And  now,  I  said,  injustice  has  to  be  considered. 

That  is  evident. 

Then,  assuming  the  threefold  division  of  the  soul,  must  not 
injustice  be  a  kind  of  quarrel  between  these  three — a  meddle- 
someness, and  interference,  and  rising  up  of  a  part  of  the  soul 
against  the  whole  soul,  an  assertion  of  unlawful  authority, 
which  is  made  by  a  rebellious  subject  against  a  true  prince,  of 
whom  he  is  the  natural  vassal — that  is  the  sort  of  thing  j  the 
confusion  and  error  of  these  parts  or  elements  is  injustice  and 
intemperance  and  cowardice  and  ignorance,  and  in  general  all 
vice? 

Exactly  so,  he  said. 

And  if  the  nature  of  justice  and  injustice  be  known,  then  the 


THE   REPUBLIC  277 

meaning  of  acting  unjustly  and  being  unjust,  or,  again,  of  act- 
ing justly,  will  also  be  perfectly  clear  ? 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

Why,  I  said,  they  are  like  disease  and  health ;  being  in  the 
soul  just  what  disease  and  health  are  in  the  body. 

How  is  that  ?  he  said. 

Why,  I  said,  that  which  is  healthy  causes  health,  and  that 
which  is  unhealthy  causes  disease. 

Yes. 

And  just  actions  cause  justice,  and  unjust  actions  cause  in- 
justice? 

That  is  certain. 

And  the  creation  of  health  is  the  creation  of  a  natural  order 
and  government  of  one  another  in  the  parts  of  the  body ;  and 
the  creation  of  disease  is  the  creation  of  a  state  of  things  in 
which  they  are  at  variance  with  this  natural  order  ? 

True. 

And  is  not  this  equally  true  of  the  soul  ?  Is  not  the  crea- 
tion of  justice  the  creation  of  a  natural  order  and  government 
of  one  another  in  the  parts  of  the  soul,  and  the  creation  of  in- 
justice the  opposite? 

Exactly,  he  said. 

Then  virtue  is  the  health  and  beauty  and  well-being  of  the 
soul,  and  vice  is  the  disease  and  weakness  and  deformity  of 
the  soul? 

True. 

And  good  practices  lead  to  virtue,  and  evil  practices  to  vice? 

Assuredly. 

Still  our  old  question  of  the  comparative  advantage  of  justice 
and   injustice  has  not  been  answered  :    Which   is  the  more 
profitable,  to  be  just  and  do  justly,  and  practice  virtue, 
whether  seen  or  unseen  of  gods  and  men,  or  to  be  unjust 
and  do  unjustly,  if  only  unpunished  and  unimproved  ? 

In  my  judgment,  Socrates,  the  question  has  now  become 
ridiculous.  If,  when  the  bodily  constitution  is  gone,  life  is 
no  longer  endurable,  though  pampered  with  every  sort  of 
meats  and  drinks,  and  having  all  wealth  and  all  power,  shall 
we  be  told  that  life  is  worth  having  when  the  very  essence  of 
the  vital  principle  is  undermined  and  corrupted,  even  though 
a  man  be  allowed  to  do  whatever  he  pleases,  if  at  the  same 
time  he  is  forbidden  to  escape  from  vice  and  injustice,  or  at- 


278  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

tain  justice  and  virtue,  seeing  that  we  now  know  the  true 
nature  of  each? 

Yes,  I  said,  that  is  ridiculous,  as  you  say.  Still,  as  we  are 
near  the  spot  at  which  we  may  see  the  truth  with  our  own  eyes, 
let  us  not  faint  by  the  way. 

Certainly  not,  he  replied. 

Come  hither  then,  I  said,  ascend  the  hill  which  overhangs 
the  city,  and  see  the  various  forms  of  vice. 

I  am  following  you,  he  replied  :   proceed. 

I  said,  We  seem  to  have  reached  a  summit  of  speculation 
from  which  you  may  look  down  and  see  the  single  form  of 
virtue,  and  the  forms  of  vice  innumerable ;  there  being  four 
special  ones  which  are  deserving  of  note. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

I  mean,  I  replied,  that  there  appear  to  be  as  many  forms  of 
the  soul  as  there  are  forms  of  the  State. 

How  many? 

There  are  five  of  the  State,  and  five  of  the  soul,  I  said. 

What  are  they  ? 

The  first,  I  said,  is  that  which  we  have  been  describing,  and 
which  may  be  said  to  have  two  names,  monarchy  and  aristoc 
racy,13  according  as  rule  is  exercised  by  one  or  many. 

True,  he  replied. 

But  I  regard  this  as  one  form  only  ;  for  whether  the  govern- 
ment is  in  the  hands  of  one  or  many,  if  the  governors  have 
been  trained  in  the  manner  which  we  have  described,  the  fun- 
damental laws  of  the  State  will  not  be  subverted. 

That  is  true,  he  replied. 

13  Monarchy :  literally,  government  by  one ;  according  to  Plato,  by  the 
best  one. 

Aristocracy  :  literally,  government  by  the  best ;  so  in  Plato,  the  best  be- 
ing the  philosophers. 


THE  REPUBLIC  279 


BOOK     V 


Such  is  the  good  and  true  State,  and  the  good  and  true 
man  is  of  the  same  pattern  ;  and  if  this  is  right  every  other 
is  wrong ;  and  the  error  is  one  which  affects  not  only 
the  ordering  of  the  State,  but  also  the  regulation  of  the  449" 
individual  soul.     There  are  four  forms  of  this  evil. 

What  are  they  ?  he  said. 

I  was  proceeding  to  tell  the  order  in  which  the  four  evil 
forms  appeared  to  me  to  succeed  one  another,  when  Polemar- 
chus  began  to  whisper  to  his  neighbor  Adeimantus,  who  was 
sitting  just  beyond  him  on  the  further  side.  He  put  out  his 
hand,  and  took  him  by  the  coat  at  the  upper  part,  by  the 
shoulder,  and  drew  him  towards  him,  leaning  forward  himself 
and  saying  something,  of  which  I  only  caught  the  words, 
"  Shall  we  let  him  off,  or  what?  " 

Certainly  not,  said  Adeimantus,  raising  his  voice. 

What  is  that,  I  said,  which  you  refuse  to  let  off? 

You,  he  said. 

Still  I  asked  for  an  explanation. 

Why,  he  said,  we  think  that  you  are  lazy  and  mean  to  cheat 
us  out  of  the  best  part  of  the  story  j  and  you  have  a  notion 
that  you  will  not  be  detected  in  passing  lightly  over  an  entire 
and  very  important  division  of  the  subject, — that  which  re- 
lates to  women  and  children, — as  if  there  could  be  no  man- 
ner of  doubt  in  this  instance  also  that  "  friends  will  have  all 
things  in  common." 

[In  what  follows,  Plato  sets  forth  his  view  that  property, 
wives,  and  children  should  be  in  common,  and  that  men 
and  women  should  have  the  same  education.  In  the  Laws 
he  admits  that  communism  is  impracticable  in  this  world, 
but  says  it  is  an  ideal  towards  which  we  should  strive.  "  The 
first  and  highest  form  of  the  State  and  of  the  government 
and  of  the  law  is  that  in  which  there  prevails  most  widely  the 
ancient  saying,  that  '  Friends  have  all  things  in  common.' 
Whether  there  is  now,  or  ever  will  be,  this  communion  of 
women  and  children  and  of  property,  in  which  the  private 
and  individual  is  altogether  banished  from  life  and  things 


280  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

which  are  by  nature  private,  such  as  eyes  and  ears  and  hands 
have  become  common,  and  in  some  way  see  and  hear  and 
act  in  common,  and  all  men  express  praise  and  blame, 
and  feel  joy  and  sorrow,  on  the  same  occasions,  and  the  laws 
unite  the  city  to  the  utmost — whether  all  this  is  possible  or 
not,  I  say  that  no  man,  acting  upon  any  other  principle,  will 
ever  constitute  a  State  more  exalted  in  virtue,  or  truer  or  bet- 
ter than  this.  Such  a  State,  whether  inhabited  by  gods  or 
sons  of  gods,  will  make  them  blessed  who  dwell  therein  ;  and 
therefore  to  this  we  are  to  look  for  the  pattern  of  the  State, 
and  to  cling  to  this,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  seek  for  one 
which  is  like  this." — Laws,  V.,  739.] 

The  inquiry,  I  said,  has  yet  to  be  made,  whether  such  a 
community  will  be  found  possible — as  among  other  animals  so 
also  among  men — and  if  possible,  in  what  way  possible  ? 

That,  he  said,  is  just  the  question  which  I  was  going  to  ask. 

As  to  war,  I  said,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  seeing  how  that 
will  be  managed. 

How  will  that  be?  he  asked. 

Why,  of  course,  they  will  go  on  expeditions  together ;  and 
will  take  with  them  any  of  their  children  wrho  are  strong 
enough,  that,  like  the  children  of  artisans  in  general,  they  may 
look  on  at  the  work,  which  they  will  have  to  do  when  they  are 
,  grown  up ;  and  besides  looking  on  they  will  be  able  to 
help  and  be  of  use  in  war,  and  to  wait  upon  their  fathers 
and  mothers.  Did  you  never  observe  in  the  arts  how  the  pot- 
ters' boys  look  on  and  help,  long  before  they  touch  the 
wheel  ? 

Certainly. 

And  shall  potters  be  more  careful  than  our  guardians  in 
educating  their  children  and  giving  them  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  and  practicing  their  duties? 

That  would  be  ridiculous,  he  said. 

There  is  another  thing ;  which  is  the  effect  on  the  parents, 
with  whom,  as  with  other  animals,  the  presence  of  their  cubs 
will  be  the  greatest  incentive  to  valor. 

That  is  quite  true,  Socrates ;  and  yet  if  they  are  defeated, 
which  may  often  happen  in  war,  how  great  the  danger  is  !  the 
children  will  be  lost  as  well  as  their  parents,  and  the  State  will 
never  recover. 


THE   REPUBLIC  28 1 

True,  I  said;  but  would  you  never  allow  them  to  run  any 
risk? 

I  am  far  from  saying  that. 

Well,  but  if  they  are  ever  to  run  a  risk  should  they  not 
run  the  risk  when  there  is  a  chance  of  their  improvement  ? 

Clearly. 

Whether  the  future  soldiers  do  or  do  not  see  war  in  the 
days  of  their  youth  is  a  very  important  matter,  for  the  sake  of 
which  some  risk  may  fairly  be  incurred. 

Yes,  that  is  very  important. 

Then,  in  the  first  place,  we  must  provide  that  the  children 
should  see  war,  and  then  contrive  a  way  of  safety  for  them  ; 
thus  all  will  be  well. 

True. 

Their  parents  may  be  supposed  to  have  ordinary  common 
sense  and  understanding  of  the  risks  of  war ;  they  will  know 
what  expeditions  are  safe  and  what  dangerous  ? 

That  may  be  supposed. 

And  they  will  take  them  on  the  safe  expeditions  and  be 
cautious  about  the  dangerous  ones? 

True. 

And  they  will  give  them  as  commanders  experienced  veter- 
ans l  who  will  be  their  leaders  and  teachers  ? 

Yes,  that  is  very  proper. 

Still,  the  dangers  of  war  cannot  always  be  foreseen  ;  there 
is  a  good  deal  of  chance  about  them  ? 

True. 

Then  against  such  chances  the  children  must  be  at  once  fur- 
nished with  wings,  in  order  that  in  the  hour  of  need  they  may 
fly  away  and  escape. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

I  mean  that  we  must  mount  them  on  horses  in  their  earliest 
youth  and  take  them  on  horseback  to  see  war,  in  order  that 
they  may  learn  to  ride ;  the  horses  must  not  be  spirited  and 
warlike,  but  the  most  tractable  and  yet  the  swiftest  that  can  be 
had.  In  this  way  they  will  get  an  excellent  view  of  what  is 
hereafter  to  be  their  business  ;  and  if  there  is  danger  they  ,~ 
have  only  to  follow  their  elder  leaders  and  escape. 

I  believe  that  you  are  right,  he  said. 

Next,  as  to  war ;  what  are  to  be  the  relations  of  your  sol- 

1  Instead  ot  putting  them  in  charge  of  slaves  as  was  customary. 


282  PLATO  THE   TEACHER 

diers  to  one  another  and  to  their  enemies?  I  should  be  in- 
clined to  propose  that  the  soldier  who  leaves  his  rank  or  throws 
away  his  arms,  or  is  guilty  of  any  other  act  of  cowardice,2 
should  be  degraded  into  the  rank  of  a  husbandman  or  artisan. 
What  do  you  think  ? 

By  all  means,  I  should  say. 

And  he  who  allows  himself  to  be  taken  prisoner  may  even 
be  made  a  present  of  to  his  enemies ;  he  is  their  prey  and  they 
may  do  as  they  like  with  him. 

Certainly. 

But  the  hero  who  has  distinguished  himself,  what  shall  be 
done  to  him  ?  In  the  first  place,  he  shall  receive  honor  in  the 
army  from  his  youthful  comrades ;  every  one  of  them  in  suc- 
cession shall  crown  him.     What  do  you  say  to  that  ? 

I  approve. 

And  what  do  you  say  to  his  receiving  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship  ? 

To  that  too,  I  agree. 

But  I  suspect  that  you  will  hardly  agree  to  my  next  proposal. 

What  is  that  ? 

That  he  should  kiss  and  be  kissed  by  them. 

That  I  entirely  approve,  and  should  be  disposed  to  add  an- 
other clause  :  Let  no  one  whom  he  has  a  mind  to  kiss  refuse 
to  be  kissed  by  him  while  the  expedition  lasts.  So  that  if  there 
be  a  lover  in  the  army,  whether  his  love  be  youth  or  maiden, 
he  may  be  more  eager  to  win  the  prize  of  valor. 

That  is  good,  I  said.  That  the  brave  man  is  to  have  more 
wives  than  others  has  been  already  determined ;  and  he  is  to 
have  first  choices  in  such  matters  more  than  others,  in  order 
that  he  may  have  as  many  children  as  possible. 

That  was  agreed. 

And  the  propriety  of  thus  honoring  brave  youths  may  be 
proved  out  of  Homer;  who  tells  how  Ajax,3  after  he  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  battle,  was  rewarded  with  long  chines, 
which  seems  to  be  a  complement  appropriate  to  a  hero  in  the 
flower  of  his  age,  being  not  only  a  tribute  of  honor  but  also  a 
very  strengthening  thing. 

2  The  Greeks  generally  regarded  an  act  of  cowardice  in  battle  as  worse 
than  death.  It  was  in  many  cities  punished  by  loss  of  citizenship.  Bosan- 
quet  quotes  the  Athenian's  oath  :  "  I  will  not  disgrace  my  sacred  shield.  I  will 
not  desert  my  fellow-soldier  in  the  ranks." 

8  See  Apology,  note  56. 


THE  REPUBLIC  283 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Then  in  this,  I  said,  Homer  will  be  our  teacher ;  and  we 
too,  at  sacrifices  and  on  the  like  occasions,  will  honor  the 
brave  with  hymns — 

"And  seats  of  precedence,  and  meats  and  flowing  goblets;  " 

not  only  honoring  them,  but  also  exercising  them  in  virtue. 

That,  he  replied,  is  excellent. 

Good,  I  said ;  and  when  a  man  dies  gloriously  in  war  shall 
we  not  say,  in  the  first  place,  that  he  is  of  the  golden  race?4 

To  be  sure. 

Nay,  have  we  not  the  authority  of  Hesiod  for  affirming  that 
when  they  are  dead — 

"They  are  holy  angels  upon  the  earth,  authors  of  good,  avert-        ^ 
ers  of  ill,  the  guardians  of  speaking  men  ?  "  4   ^ 

And  we  shall  believe  him. 

And  suppose  that  we  inquire  of  the  god  how  we  are  to  order 
the  sepulture  of  divine  and  heroic  personages,  and  do  as  he 
bids?5 

By  all  means. 

In  ages  to  come  we  will  do  service  to  them  and  worship  at 
their  shrines  as  heroes.  And  not  only  they  but  all  other  bene- 
factors who  die  from  age,  or  in  any  other  way,  shall  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  same  honors. 

That  is  very  right,  he  said. 

Next,  how  shall  our  soldiers  treat  their  enemies  ?  What  do 
you  say  about  this? 

In  what  respect  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean,  shall  they  be  made  slaves  ?  Do  you  think  that 
Hellenes  ought  to  enslave  Hellenes,6  or  allow  others  to  enslave 
them,  as  far  as  they  can  help  ?  Should  not  their  custom  be  to 
spare  them,  considering  the  danger  which  there  is  that  the 
whole  race  may  one  day  fall  under  the  yoke  of  the  barbarians? 

To  spare  them  is  infinitely  better. 

Then  no  Hellene  should  be  owned  by  them  as  a  slave  ;  that 
is  a  rule  which  they  will  observe  and  advise  the  other  Hellenes 
to  observe. 

Certainly,  he  said ;  that  is  the  way  to  unite  them  against 

*  Compare  myth  at  close  of  Book  III. 

6  See  Book  IV.,  427. 

6  At  this  time  the  Spartans  held  fellow  Greeks  in  slavery. 


284  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

the  barbarians,  and  make  them  keep  their  hands  off  one  an- 
other. Next  as  to  the  slain ;  ought  the  conquerors,  I  said,  to 
take  anything  but  their  armor  ?  Does  not  the  practice  of  de- 
spoiling an  enemy  afford  an  excuse  for  not  facing  the  battle? 
They  skulk  about  the  dead,  pretending  to  be  executing  a  duty, 
and  many  an  army  before  now  has  been  lost  from  this  love  of 
plunder. 

Very  true. 

And  is  there  not  illiberality  and  avarice,  and  a  degree  of 
meanness  and  womanishness,  in  robbing  a  corpse,  and  making 
the  dead  body  an  enemy  when  the  real  enemy  has  walked 
away  and  left  only  his  fighting  gear  behind  him, — is  not  this 
rather  like  a  dog  who  cannot  get  at  his  assailant,  quarreling 
with  the  stones  which  strike  him  instead  ? 

That  is  exactly  parallel,  he  said. 

Then  we  must  abstain  from  spoiling  the  dead  or  hindering 
their  burial? 

Yes,  he  replied,  that  we  must. 

Neither,  as  our  object  is  to  preserve  good  feeling  among  the 

Hellenes,  shall  we  offer  up  the  arms  of  Hellenes  at  any  rate, 

at  the  temples  of  the  gods ;  nay,  we  have  some  reason 

to  be  afraid  that  such  an  offering  may  be  a  pollution 

unless  commanded  by  the  god  himself. 

Very  true. 

Again,  as  to  the  devastation  of  an  Hellenic  territory  or  the 
burning  of  houses,  what  is  to  be  the  practice  ? 

Will  you  let  me  have  the  pleasure,  he  said,  of  hearing  your 
opinion  upon  this? 

Both  should  be  forbidden,  in  my  judgment ;  I  would  take 
the  annual  produce  and  no  more.  Would  you  wish  to  know 
why  I  say  this  ? 

Very  much. 

Why,  I  imagine  that  as  there  is  a  difference  in  the  names 
"  discord  "  and  "  war,"  there  is  also  a  difference  in  their  nat- 
ures ;  the  one  is  expressive  of  what  is  internal  and  domestic, 
the  other  of  what  is  external  and  foreign ;  and  the  first  of 
these  is  properly  termed  discord,  and  only  the  second,  war. 

That  is  a  very  just  distinction,  he  replied. 

Shall  I  further  add  that  the  Hellenic  race  is  all  united  by 
ties  of  blood  and  friendship,  and  alien  and  strange  to  the 
barbarians  ? 


THE  REPUBLIC  285 

Very  good,  he  said. 

And  therefore  when  Hellenes  fight  with  barbarians  and  bar- 
barians with  Hellenes,  they  will  be  described  by  us  as  being 
at  war  when  they  fight,  and  by  nature  in  a  state  of  war,  and 
this  kind  of  antagonism  is  to  be  called  war ;  but  when  Hellenes 
fight  with  one  another  we  shall  say  that  they  are  by  nature 
friends,  and  at  such  a  time  Hellas  is  in  a  state  of  disorder  and 
distraction,  and  enmity  of  that  sort  is  to  be  called  discord. 

In  that  view,  I  agree. 

Consider  then,  I  said,  when  that  which  is  now  acknowl- 
edged by  us  to  be  discord  occurs,  and  a  city  is  divided,  if 
both  parties  destroy  the  lands  and  burn  the  houses  of  one  an- 
other, how  wicked  does  the  strife  appear, — how  can  either  of 
them  be  a  lover  of  his  country  ?  for  no  true  lover  of  his  coun- 
try would  tear  in  pieces  his  nurse  and  mother  :  there  might 
be  reason  in  the  conqueror  depriving  the  conquered  of  their 
harvest,  but  still  they  would  have  the  idea  of  peace  in  their 
hearts,  and  not  of  everlasting  war. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  a  better  temper  than  the  other. 

And  when  you  found  a  State,  are  you  not  intending  to 
found  an  Hellenic  State  ? 

Of  course,  he  replied. 

Then  will  not  the  citizens  be  good  and  civilized  ? 

To  be  sure. 

And  will  they  not  be  lovers  of  Hellas,  and  think  of  Hellas 
as  their  own  land,  and  share  in  the  common  temples? 

Most  certainly. 

And  any  difference  that  arises  among  Hellenes  will  be  re- 
garded  by    them   as   discord   only, — a  quarrel   among 
friends,  which  is  not  to  be  called  a  war?  47 

Certainly  not. 

Then  they  will  quarrel  as  those  who  intend  some  day  to 
make  up  their  quarrel  ? 

Certainly. 

Correcting  them  in  love,  not  punishing  them  with  a  view  to 
enslaving  or  destroying  them  ;  as  correctors,  not  as  enemies? 

That  is  very  true. 

And  as  they  are  Hellenes  themselves  they  will  not  devastate 
Hellas,  nor  will  they  burn  houses,  nor  ever  suppose  that  the 
whole  population  of  a  city — men,  women,  and  children — are 
equally  their  enemies,  for  they  know  that  the  guilt  of  war  is 


286  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

always  confined  to  a  few  persons,  and  that  the  many  are  their 
friends.  And  for  all  these  reasons  they  will  be  unwilling  to 
waste  their  lands  and  raze  their  houses ;  their  enmity  to  them 
will  only  last  until  the  many  innocent  sufferers  have  compelled 
the  guilty  few  to  give  satisfaction  ? 

I  agree,  he  said,  in  thinking  that  these  are  the  sort  of  rules 
which  our  citizens  ought  to  observe  towards  their  (Hellenic) 
adversaries  ;  in  their  wars  with  barbarians  the  present  practice 
of  the  Hellenes  to  one  another  will  afford  a  sufficient  rule. 

Let  this  then  be  enacted  for  the  observance  of  our  guardians  ; 
that  they  are  neither  to  devastate  the  ground  nor  to  burn  houses. 

Yes,  let  that  be  enacted  ;  and  we  may  safely  maintain  that 
this  and  all  our  previous  enactments  are  excellent. 

But  still,  Socrates,  I  must  say,  that  if  you  are  allowed  to  go 
on  in  this  way  you  will  entirely  forget  the  other  question  which 
in  entering  on  this  discussion  you  put  aside,  namely :  the  in- 
quiry as  to  whether  such  an  order  of  things  is  possible,  and  if 
possible,  in  what  way  possible?  For,  admitting  the  possibil- 
ity, I  am  quite  ready  to  acknowledge  that  the  plan  has  every 
sort  of  advantage.  I  will  add  what  you  have  omitted,  that 
they  will  be  the  bravest  of  warriors,  ever  exhorting  one 
another  by  the  names  of  fathers,  brothers,  and  sons,  and  there- 
fore never  leaving  their  ranks  ;  and  if  you  suppose  the  women 
to  join  their  armies,  whether  in  the  same  rank  or  in  the  rear, 
either  as  a  terror  to  the  enemy,  or  as  auxiliaries  in  case  of  need, 
I  know  that  this  will  make  them  altogether  invincible ;  and 
there  are  many  domestic  advantages  which  might  be  mentioned 
as  well,  and  these  also  I  fully  acknowledge.  But,  as  I  admit 
all  these  advantages  and  as  many  more  as  you  please,  if  this 
State  of  yours  were  to  come  into  being,  say  no  more  of  that  ; 
and  let  us  now  come  to  the  question  of  possibility  and  ways 
and  means — »all  the  rest  may  be  left. 

If  I  loiter  for  a  moment,  you  instantly  make  a  raid  upon 

me,  I  said,  and  have  no  mercy  ;  I  have  hardly  escaped  the 

first  and  second  waves,  and  you  don't  seem  to  be  aware 

that  you  are  now  bringing  upon  me  the  third,  which  is 

the  greatest.7     When  you  have  seen  this,  and  heard  the  roar, 

7  In  Republic  V.  Socrates  puts  forth  three  propositions  which  he  humor- 
ously calls  waves,  as  though  the  company  were  likely  to  be  overwhelmed  by 
them.  These  propositions  are  :  i.  The  sexes  should  have  all  occupations 
in  common  and  therefore  the  same  education.  2.  Wives  and  children 
should  be  in  common.     3.  The  State  should  be  ruled  by  philosophers. 


THE   REPUBLIC  287 

I  think  you  will  acknowledge  that  some  fear  and  hesitation 
was  natural,  considering  the  marvelous  nature  of  the  proposal 
which  I  have  to  offer  for  consideration. 

The  more  appeals  of  this  sort  which  you  make,  he  said,  the 
more  determined  are  we  that  you  should  tell  us  how  such  a 
State  is  possible  :   speak  out,  and  at  once. 

Let  me  begin  by  reminding  you  that  we  found  our  way 
hither  in  the  search  after  justice  and  injustice. 

True,  he  replied  ;  but  what  makes  you  say  this  ? 

I  was  only  going  to  ask  whether,  if  we  have  discovered  them, 
we  are  to  require  that  the  just  man  should  in  nothing  fail  of 
absolute  justice  ;  or  may  we  be  satisfied  with  an  approximation, 
and  the  attainment  of  a  higher  degree  of  justice  than  is  to  be 
found  in  other  men? 

The  approximation  will  be  enough. 

Then  the  nature  of  justice  and  the  perfectly  just  man,  and 
of  injustice  and  the  perfectly  unjust,  was  only  an  ideal?  We 
were  to  look  at  them  in  order  that  we  might  judge  of  our  own 
happiness  and  unhappiness  according  to  the  standard  which 
they  exhibited  and  the  degree  in  which  we  resembled  them, 
not  with  any  view  of  demonstrating  the  possibility  of  their  ex- 
istence ? 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

How  would  a  painter  be  the  worse  painter  because,  after  hav- 
ing minutely  painted  an  ideal  of  a  perfectly  beautiful  man,  he 
was  unable  to  show  that  any  such  man  could  ever  have  existed  ? 

He  would  not. 

Well,  and  were  we  not  creating  an  ideal  of  a  perfect  State? 

To  be  sure. 

And  is  our  theory  a  worse  theory  because  we  are  unable  to 
prove  the  possibility  of  a  city  being  ordered  in  the  manner 
described? 

Surely  not,  he  replied. 

That  must  be  acknowledged,  I  said.  But  if,  at  your  request, 
I  am  to  try  and  show  how  and  under  what  condition  the  pos- 
sibility is  highest,  I  must  ask  you,  having  this  in  view,  to  re- 
peat your  former  admissions. 

What  admissions  ? 

I  want  to  know  whether  words  do  not  surpass  realities ; 
and  whether  the  actual,  whatever  a  man  may  think,  does  not 
fall  short  of  the  truth  ?     What  do  you  say  ? 


288  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

I  admit  that. 

Then  you  must  not  insist  on  my  proving  that  the  actual 
State  will  in  every  respect  agree  with  the  description  of  the 
ideal :  if  we  are  only  able  to  discover  how  a  city  may  be  gov- 
erned nearly  in  the  way  that  we  propose,  you  will  admit  that 
we  have  discovered  the  possibility  which  you  demand ;  and 
that  will  content  you.  I  am  sure  that  I  should  be  contented 
with  that — will  not  you? 

Yes,  I  will. 

Then  let  me  next  endeavor  to  show  what  is  that  fault  in 
States  which  is  the  cause  of  their  present  maladministration, 
and  what  is  the  least  change  which  will  enable  a  State  to  pass 
into  the  truer  form  ;  and  let  the  change,  if  possible,  be  of  one 
thing  only,  or,  if  not,  of  two  ;  at  any  rate,  let  the  changes  be 
as  few  and  slight  as  possible. 

Certainly,  he  replied. 

I  think  then,  I  said,  that  there  might  be  a  revolution  if 
there  were  just  one  change,  which  is  not  a  slight  or  easy  though 
still  a  possible  one. 

What  is  that  ?  he  said. 

Now  then,  I  said,  I  go  to  meet  that  which  I  liken  to  the 
greatest  of  waves,  yet  shall  the  word  be  spoken,  even  though 
the  running  over  of  the  laughter  of  the  wave  shall  just  sink  me 
beneath  the  waters  of  laughter  and  dishonor  j  and  do  you  at- 
tend to  me. 

Proceed,  he  said. 

I  said :  Until,  then,  philosophers  are  kings,  or  the  kings 
and  princes  of  this  world  have  the  spirit  and  power  of  philoso- 
phy, and  political  greatness  and  wisdom  meet  in  one,  and  those 
commoner  natures  who  follow  either  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
other  are  compelled  to  stand  aside,  cities  will  never  cease  from 
ill — no,  nor  the  human  race,  as  I  believe — and  then  only  will 
this  our  State  have  a  possibility  of  life  and  behold  the  light  of 
day :  this  was  what  I  wanted  but  was  afraid  to  say,  my  dear 
Glaucon  ;  for  to  see  that  there  is  no  other  way  either  of  pri- 
vate or  public  happiness  is  indeed  a  hard  thing. 

Socrates,  he  said,  what  a  speech  is  this  ?  I  would  have  you 
consider  that  the  word  which  you  have  uttered  is  one  at  which 
numerous  persons,  and  very  respectable  persons  too,  will  in  a 
moment  pull  off  their  coats,  as  I  may  in  a  figure  say,  and  in 
light  array,  taking  up  any  weapon  that  comes  to  hand,  they 


THE   REPUBLIC  289 

will  run  at  you  might  and  main,  intending  to  do  heaven 
knows  what ;  and  if  you  don't  prepare  an  answer,  and  put  your- 
self in  motion,  you  will  be  "  pared  by  their  fine  wits," 
and  no  mistake.  474" 

You  got  me  into  the  scrape,  I  said.  47 

And  I  was  quite  right,  he  said  ;  however,  I  will  do  all  I  can 
to  get  you  out  ;  but  I  can  only  give  you  wishes  and  exhorta- 
tions, and  also,  perhaps,  I  may  be  able  to  fit  answers  into  your 
questions  better  than  another — that  is  all.  And  now  having 
such  an  auxiliary,  you  must  do  your  best  to  show  the  unbeliev- 
ers that  you  are  right. 

I  ought  to  try,  I  said,  as  I  have  an  offer  of  such  valuable  as- 
sistance. And  I  think  that,  if  there  is  to  be  a  chance  of  our 
escaping,  we  must  define  who  these  philosophers  are  who,  as 
we  say,  are  to  rule  in  the  State ;  then  we  shall  be  able  to  de- 
fend ourselves :  there  will  be  discovered  to  be  some  natures 
who  ought  to  rule  and  to  study  philosophy  ;  and  others  who  are 
not  born  to  be  philosophers,  and  are  meant  to  be  followers 
rather  than  leaders. 

Then  now  for  a  definition,  he  said. 

Follow  me,  I  said,  and  I  hope  that  I  may  somehow  or  other 
be  able  to  give  you  a  satisfactory  explanation. 

Proceed,  he  replied. 

[The  true  philosopher  is  one  who  loves  all  wisdom.  He 
alone  distinguishes  between  the  changing  world  of  the  senses 
and  the  eternal  world  of  absolute  'ruth.  In  contrast  with 
him,  the  many  have  no  true  knowledge  but  only  the  appearance 
of  knowledge  which  may  be  called  opinion.] 

Those  who  see  the  many  beautiful,  and  who  yet  neither  see, 
nor  can  be  taught  to  see,  absolute  beauty  ;  who  see  the  many 
just,  and  not  absolute  justice,  and  the  like, — such  persons  may 
be  said  to  have  opinion  but  not  knowledge  ? 

That  is  certain. 

But  those  who  see  the  absolute  and  eternal  and  immutable 
may  be  said  to  know,  and  not  to  have  opinion  only? 

Neither  can  that  be  denied.  « 

The  one  love  and  embrace  the  subjects  of  knowledge, 
the  other  those  of  opinion?     The  latter  are  the  same,  as  I 
dare  say  you  will  remember,  who  listened  to  sweet  sounds  and 

19 


290  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

gazed  upon  fair  colors,  but  would  not  tolerate  the  existence 
of  absolute  beauty  ? 

Yes,  I  remember. 

Shall  we  then  be  guilty  of  any  impropriety  in  calling  them 
lovers  of  opinion  rather  than  lovers  of  wisdom,  and  will  they 
be  very  angry  with  us  for  thus  describing  them? 

I  shall  tell  them  that  they  ought  not  to  be  angry  at  a  descrip- 
tion of  themselves  which  is  true. 

But  those  who  embrace  the  absolute  are  to  be  called  lovers 
of  wisdom  and  not  lovers  of  opinion  ? 

Assuredly. 


THE   REPUBLIC  29I 


BOOK    VI 

And  thus,  Glaucon,  after  the  argument  has  gone  a  weary 
way,  the  true  and  the  false  philosophers  have  at  length     .- 
appeared  in  view. 

I  do  not  think,  he  said,  that  the  way  could  have  been 
shortened. 

I  suppose  not,  I  said  ;  and  yet  I  believe  that  the  contrast 
might  be  made  still  more  striking  if  there  were  not  many 
other  questions  awaiting  us,  which  he  who  desires  to  see  in 
what  the  life  of  the  just  differs  from  that  of  the  unjust  must 
consider. 

And  what  question  is  next  in  order  ?  he  asked. 

Surely,  I  said,  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  that.  Inas- 
much as  philosophers  only  are  able  to  grasp  the  eternal  and 
unchangeable,  and  those  who  wander  in  the  region  of  the 
many  and  variable  are  not  philosophers,  I  must  ask  you  which 
of  the  two  kinds  should  be  the  rulers  of  our  State  ? 

And  what  would  be  a  fair  answer  to  that  question  ?  he  said. 

Ask  yourself,  I  replied,  which  of  the  two  are  better  able  to 
guard  the  laws  and  institutions  of  our  State ;  and  let  them  be 
our  guardians. 

Very  good,  he  said. 

Neither,  I  said,  can  there  be  any  question  that  the  guardian 
who  is  to  keep  anything  should  have  eyes  rather  than  no  eyes? 

There  can  be  no  question  of  that. 

And  are  not  those  who  are  deprived  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
true  being  of  each  thing,  and  have  in  their  souls  no  clear  pat- 
tern,1 and  are  unable  as  with  a  painter's  eye  to  look  at  the  very 
truth  and  to  that  original  to  repair,  and  having  perfect  vision 
of  the  other  world  to  order  the  laws  about  beauty,  goodness, 
justice  in  this,  and  to  guard  and  preserve  the  order  of  them — 
are  they  not,  I  say,  simply  blind? 

Indeed,  he  replied,  they  are  much  in  that  condition. 

And  shall  these  be  our  guardians  when  there  are  others  who, 
besides  being  their  equals  in  experience  and  not  inferior  to 
them  in  any  particular  of  virtue,  have  also  the  knowledge  of 
the  true  being  of  everything  ? 

*See  Book  IX.,  593. 


292  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

There  can  be  no  reason,  he  said,  for  rejecting  those  who 
8       have  this  great  and  preeminent  quality,  if  they  do  not 
fail  in  any  other  respect. 

Suppose  then,  I  said,  that  we  determine  how  far  they  can 
unite  this  and  the  other  excellences. 

By  all  means. 

First  of  all,  as  we  began  by  observing,  their  nature  will 
have  to  be  ascertained ;  and  if  we  are  agreed  about  that,  then, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  shall  also  be  agreed  that  such  an 
union  of  qualities  is  possible,  and  that  those  in  whom  they  are 
united,  and  those  only,  should  be  rulers  in  the  State.  Let  us 
begin  by  assuming  that  philosophical  minds  always  love  that 
sort  of  knowledge  which  shows  them  the  eternal  nature  in 
which  is  no  variableness  from  generation  and  corruption. 

Let  that  be  acknowledged. 

And  further,  I  said,  let  us  admit  that  they  are  lovers  of  all 
being;  there  is  no  part  whether  greater  or  less,  or  more  or 
less  honorable,  which  they  are  willing  to  renounce ;  that  has 
been  already  illustrated  by  the  example  of  the  lover  and  the 
man  of  ambition.2 

True. 

There  is  another  quality  which  they  will  also  need  if  they 
are  to  be  what  we  were  saying. 

What  quality  is  that  ? 

Truthfulness:  they  will  never  intentionally  receive  false- 
hood, which  is  their  detestation,  and  they  will  love  the  truth. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  may  be  affirmed. 

"  May  be,"  my  friend,  I  replied,  that  is  not  the  word ;  say 
rather,  ■ '  must  be  affirmed  :  *'  for  he  whose  nature  is  amorous 
of  anything  cannot  help  loving  all  that  belongs  or  is  akin  to 
the  object  of  his  affections. 

Right,  he  said. 

And  is  there  anything  more  akin  to  wisdom  than  truth  ? 

Impossible,  he  said. 

Or  can  the  same  nature  be  a  lover  of  wisdom  and  a  lover 
of  falsehood  ? 

Never. 

The  true  lover  of  learning  then  must  from  his  earliest  youth, 
as  far  as  in  him  lies,  desire  all  truth  ? 

Assuredly. 
2  This  refers  to  a  passage  in  Book  V. ,  474,  which  has  been  omitted. 


THE  REPUBLIC  293 

But  then  again,  he  whose  desires  are  strong  in  one  direction 
will  have  them  weaker  in  others ;  they  will  be  like  a  stream 
which  has  been  drawn  off  into  another  channel. 

True. 

He  whose  desires  are  drawn  toward  knowledge  in  every  form 
will  be  absorbed  in  the  pleasures  of  the  soul,  and  will  hardly 
feel  bodily  pleasure — I  mean,  if  he  be  a  true  philosopher  and 
not  a  sham  one. 

That  is  most  certain. 

Such  an  one  is  sure  to  be  temperate  and  the  reverse  of  cov- 
etous ;  for  the  motives  which  make  another  man  covetous  and 
also  profuse  in  expenditure,  are  no  part  of  his  character. 
There  is  another  criterion  of  the  philosophical  nature  ~, 
which  has  also  to  be  considered.  * 

What  is  that  ? 

There  should  be  no  secret  corner  of  meanness ;  for  mean- 
ness is  entirely  opposed  to  a  soul  that  is  always  longing  after 
the  whole  of  things  both  divine  and  human. 

Most  true,  he  replied. 

Can  the  soul  then,  which  has  magnificence  of  conception 
and  is  the  spectator  of  all  time  and  all  existence,  think  much 
of  human  life  ? 

Impossible,  he  replied. 

Or  can  such  an  one  account  death  fearful  ? 

No  indeed. 

Then  the  cowardly  and  mean  nature  has  no  part  in  true 
philosophy  ? 

I  should  say  not. 

Or  again :  can  he  who  is  harmoniously  constituted,  who  is 
not  covetous  or  mean,  or  a  boaster,  or  a  coward — can  he,  I 
say,  ever  be  unjust  or  hard  in  his  dealings  ? 

Impossible. 

You  will  note  also  whether  a  man  is  righteous  and  gentle,  or 
rude  and  unsociable  ;  these  are  the  signs  which  distinguish  even 
in  youth  the  philosophical  nature  from  the  unphilosophical. 

True. 

And  there  is  another  point  which  should  be  remarked. 

What  is  that  ? 

Whether  he  has  or  has  not  a  pleasure  in  learning  ;  for  no 
one  will  love  that  which  gives  him  pain,  and  in  which  after 
much  toil  he  makes  little  progress. 


294  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Certainly  not. 

And  again,  if  he  is  forgetful  and  retains  nothing  of  what  he 
learns,  will  he  not  be  an  empty  vessel  ? 

That  is  certain. 

Laboring  in  vain,  he  must  end  in  hating  himself  and  his 
fruitless  occupation? 

Yes. 

Then  the  forgetful  soul  cannot  be  ranked  among  philoso- 
phers ;  a  philosopher  ought  to  have  a  good  memory  ? 

Certainly. 

But  the  inharmonious  and  unseemly  nature  can  only  tend  to 
disproportion  ? 

No  doubt  of  that. 

And  do  you  consider  truth  to  be  akin  to  proportion  or  dis- 
proportion ? 

To  proportion. 

Then,  besides  other  qualities,  let  us  seek  for  a  well-propor- 
tioned and  gracious  mind  whose  own  nature  will  of  herself  be 
drawn  to  the  true  being  of  everything. 

Certainly. 

Well,  and  do  not  all  these  qualities  go  together,  and  are 
they  not  necessary  to  a  soul,  which  is  to  have  a  full  and  perfect 
participation  of  being  ? 
8  They  are  absolutely  necessary,  he  replied. 

And  must  not  that  be  a  blameless  study  which  he  only 
can  pursue  who  has  a  good  memory,  and  is  quick  to  learn, 
noble,  gracious,  the  friend  of  truth,  justice,  courage,  temper- 
ance, who  are  his  kindred  ? 3 

The  god  of  jealousy  himself,  he  said,  could  find  no  fault 
with  such  a  study. 

And  to  these,  I  said,  when  perfected  by  years  and  educa- 
tion, and  to  these  only  you  will  entrust  the  State. 

Here  Adeimantus  interposed  and  said  :  To  this,  Socrates, 
no  one  can  offer  a  reply ;  but  there  is  a  feeling  which  those 
who  hear  you  talk  as  you  are  now  doing  often  experience,  and 
which  I  may  describe  in  this  way  :  they  fancy  that  they  are 
led  astray  a  little  at  each  step  in  the  argument,  owing  to  their 
own  want  of  skill  in  asking  and  answering  questions  ;  these 
littles  accumulate,  and  at  the  end  of  the  discussion  they  are 
found  to  have  sustained  a  dire  reverse  and  to  be  at  the  antip- 
8 See  Book  II.,  376  ;  III.,  412-414. 


THE   REPUBLIC  295 

odes  of  their  former  selves.  And  as  unskillful  players  of 
draughts  are  at  last  shut  up  by  their  skilled  adversaries  and 
have  no  piece  to  move,  so  they  find  themselves  at  last  shut  up 
and  have  no  word  to  say  in  this  new  game  of  which  words  are 
the  counters  ;  and  yet  all  the  time  they  are  in  the  right.  This 
observation  is  suggested  to  me  by  what  is  now  occurring.  For 
at  this  instant  any  one  will  say,  that  although  in  words  he  is 
not  able  to  meet  you  at  each  step  in  the  argument,  as  a  fact 
he  sees  that  the  votaries  of  philosophy  who  carry  on  the  study, 
not  only  in  youth  with  a  view  to  education,  but  as  the  pursuit 
of  their  maturer  years, — that  these  men,  I  say,  for  the  most 
part  grow  into  very  strange  beings,  not  to  say  utter  rogues, 
and  that  the  result  with  those  who  may  be  considered  the  best 
of  them  is,  that  they  are  made  useless  to  the  world  by  the 
very  study  which  you  extol. 

Well,  I  said  ;  and  do  you  think  that  they  are  wrong  ? 

I  cannot  tell,  he  replied  ;  but  I  should  like  to  know  what  is 
your  opinion. 

Let  me  tell  you  then  that  I  think  they  are  quite  right. 

Then  how  can  you  be  justified  in  saying  that  cities  will  not 
cease  from  evil  until  philosophers  rule  in  them,  when  philoso- 
phers are  acknowledged  by  us  to  be  of  no  use  to  them  ? 

You  ask  a  question,  I  said,  which  I  can  only  answer  in  a 
parable. 

Yes,  said  he ;  and  that  is  a  way  of  speaking  to  which  you 
are  not  accustomed,  I  suppose. 

I  perceive,  I  said,  that  you  are  vastly  amused  at  having  got 
me  to  speak  on  such  an  impossible  theme  ;  and  now  you  shall 
hear  the  parable  in  order  that  you  may  judge  better  of  RR 
the  meagre ness  of  my  imagination  :  for  the  treatment 
which  the  best  men  experience  from  their  States  is  so  grievous 
that  no  single  thing  on  earth  can  be  compared  with  them  ; 
and  therefore  in  defending  them  I  must  have  recourse  to  fic- 
tion, and  make  a  compound  of  many  things,  like  the  fabulous 
unions  of  goats  and  stags  which  are  found  in  pictures.  Imag- 
ine then  a  fleet  or  a  ship  in  which  there  is  a  captain  who  is 
taller  and  stronger  than  any  of  the  crew,  but  he  is  a  little  deaf 
and  has  a  similar  infirmity  in  sight,  and  his  knowledge  of  nav- 
igation is  not  much  better.  Now  the  sailors  are  quarrelling 
with  one  another  about  the  steering  ;  every  one  is  of  opinion 
that  he  ought  to  steer,  though  he  has  never  learned  and  cannot 


296  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

tell  who  taught  him  or  when  he  learned,  and  will  even  assert 
that  the  art  of  navigation  cannot  be  taught,  and  is  ready  to 
cut  in  pieces  him  who  says  the  contrary.  They  throng  about 
the  captain,  and  do  all  that  they  can  to  make  him  commit  the 
helm  to  them  ;  and  then,  if  they  fail  on  some  occasion  and 
others  prevail,  they  kill  the  others  or  throw  them  overboard, 
and  having  first  chained  up  the  noble  captain's  senses  with 
drink  or  some  narcotic  drug,  they  mutiny  and  take  possession 
of  the  ship  and  make  themselves  at  home  with  the  stores ;  and 
thus,  eating  and  drinking,  they  continue  their  voyage  with 
such  success  as  might  be  expected  of  them.  Him  who  is  their 
partisan  and  zealous  in  the  design  of  getting  the  ship  out  of 
the  captain's  hands  into  their  own,  whether  by  force  or  per- 
suasion, they  compliment  with  the  name  of  sailor,  pilot,  able 
seaman,  and  abuse  the  other  sort  of  man  and  call  him  a  good- 
for-nothing  ;  but  they  have  not  even  a  notion  that  the  true 
pilot  must  pay  attention  to  the  year  and  seasons  and  sky  and 
stars  and  winds,  and  whatever  else  belongs  to  his  art,  if  he  in- 
tends to  be  really  qualified  for  the  command  of  a  ship ;  at  the 
same  time  that  he  must  and  will  be  the  steerer,  whether  people 
like  him  to  steer  or  not ;  and  they  think  that  the  combination 
of  this  with  the  art  of  navigation  is  impossible.  Now  in  ves- 
s  sels  and  among  sailors,  whose  condition  is  such  as  this, 
how  will  the  true  pilot  be  regarded  ?  Will  he  not  be 
called  by  the  mutineers  useless,  prater,  star-gazer  ? 

Of  course,  said  Adeimantus. 

I  do  not  suppose,  I  said,  that  you  would  care  to  hear  the 
interpretation  of  the  figure,  which  is  an  allegory  of  the  true 
philosopher  in  his  relation  to  the  State  4 ;  for  you  understand 
already. 

Certainly. 

Then  suppose  you  now  take  the  parable  to  the  gentleman 
who  is  surprised  at  finding  that  philosophers  have  no  honor  in 
their  cities,  and  explain  to  him  and  try  to  convince  him  that 
their  having  honor  would  be  far  more  extraordinary. 

I  will. 

Say  to  him,  that,  in  deeming  the  best  of  the  votaries  of  phi- 
losophy to  be  useless  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  he  is  right ;  but 

4  The  captain  personifies  the  people  as  Uncle  Sam  stands  for  the  Amer- 
ican people.  The  sailors  represent  the  politicians  ;  the  true  pilot  represents 
the  philosopher. 


THE  REPUBLIC  297 

he  ought  to  attribute  their  uselessness  to  the  fault  of  those  who 
will  not  use  them,  and  not  to  themselves.  The  pilot  should 
not  humbly  beg  the  sailors  to  be  commanded  by  him — that  is 
not  the  order  of  nature  ;  neither  are  the  wise  to  go  to  the  doors 
of  the  rich  (the  ingenious  author  of  this  told  a  lie),  for  the 
truth  is,  that,  when  a  man  is  ill,  whether  he  be  rich  or  poor, 
he  must  go  to  the  physician's  door — the  physician  will  not 
come  to  him,  and  he  who  is  asking  to  be  governed,  to  the 
door  of  him  who  is  able  to  govern.  No  ruler  who  is  good  for 
anything  ought  to  ask  his  subjects  to  obey  him  ;  he  is  not  like 
the  present  governors  of  mankind  who  may  be  compared  to 
the  mutinous  sailors,  and  the  true  helmsman  to  those  whom 
they  call  useless  and  star-gazers. 

Precisely,  he  said. 

For  these  reasons,  and  among  men  like  these,  the  noblest 
pursuit  of  all  is  not  likely  to  be  much  esteemed  by  those  who 
are  of  the  opposite  persuasion  ;  not  that  the  greatest  and  most 
lasting  injury  is  done  to  philosophy  by  them,  but  by  her  own 
professing  followers,  the  same  of  whom  you  suppose  the  ac- 
cuser to  say,  that  the  greater  number  of  them  are  arrant 
rogues,  and  the  best  are  useless;  in  which  opinion  I  agreed. 

Yes. 

And  the  reason  why  the  good  are  useless  has  been  now  ex- 
plained ? 

True. 

Then  shall  we  now  endeavor  to  show  that  the  corruption 
of  the  greater  number  is  also  unavoidable,  and  that  this  is  not 
to  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  philosophy  any  more  than  the 
other  ? 

By  all  means. 

And  let  us  ask  and  answer  in  turn,  first  going  back  to  the 
description  of  the  gentle  and  noble  nature.     Truth,  as  you 
will  remember,  was  his  captain,  whom  he  followed  al- 
ways  and  in  all  things  ;  failing  in  this,  he  was  an  impos- 
tor, and  had  no  part  or  lot  in  true  philosophy. 

Yes,  that  was  said. 

Well,  and  is  not  this  quality  alone  greatly  at  variance  with 
our  present  notions  of  him  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

And  have  we  not  a  right  to  say,  in  his  defense,  that  the  true 
lover  of  knowledge  is  always  striving  after  being — that  is  his 


298  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

nature  ;  he  will  not  rest  in  the  fanciful  multiplicity  of  indi- 
viduals, but  will  go  on — the  keen  edge  will  not  be  blunted, 
neither  the  force  of  his  desire  abate  until  he  have  attained  the 
knowledge  of  the  true  nature  of  every  essence  by  a  kindred 
power  in  the  soul,  and  by  that  power  drawing  near  and  min- 
gling incorporate  with  very  being,  having  begotten  mind  and 
truth,  he  will  know  and  live  and  grow  truly,  and  then,  and 
not  till  then,  will  he  cease  from  his  travail. 

Nothing,  he  said,  can  be  more  just  than  such  a  description 
of  him. 

And  will  the  love  of  a  lie  be  any  part  of  a  philosopher's 
nature  ?     Will  he  not  utterly  hate  a  lie  ? 

That  he  will. 

And  when  truth  is  the  captain,  we  cannot  suspect  any  evil 
of  the  band  which  he  leads  ? 

Impossible. 

Justice  and  health  will  be  of  the  company,  and  temperance 
will  follow  after. 

True,  he  replied. 

Neither  is  there  any  reason  why  I  should  again  set  in  array 
the  philosopher's  virtues,  as  you  will  doubtless  remember  that 
courage,  magnanimity,  apprehension,  memory,  were  his  nat- 
ural gifts.  And  you  objected  that,  although  no  one  could 
deny  what  I  then  said,  still,  if  you  leave  words  and  look  at 
facts,  the  persons  who  are  thus  described  are  some  of  them 
useless,  and  the  greater  number  wholly  depraved  ;  and  this 
led  us  to  inquire  into  the  grounds  of  these  accusations,  and 
we  had  arrived  at  the  point  of  asking  why  are  the  many  bad, 
which  question  of  necessity  brought  us  back  to  the  examina- 
tion and  definition  of  the  true  philosopher. 

Exactly. 

And  now  we  have  to  consider  the  corruptions  of  this  nature, 
why  so  many  are  spoiled  and  so  few  escape  spoiling — those,  I 
mean,  whom  you  call  useless  but  not  wicked ;  and  after  that 
we  will  consider  the  imitators  who  turn  into  philoso- 
phers,  what  manner  of  natures  are  they  who  aspire  after 
a  profession  which  is  above  them  and  of  which  they  are  un- 
worthy, and  then,  by  their  manifold  inconsistencies,  bring 
upon  philosophy,  and  upon  all  philosophers,  that  universal 
reprobation  of  which  we  speak. 

But  what,  he  said,  is  the  nature  of  these  corruptions  ? 


THE  REPUBLIC  299 

That  I  will  try  to  explain  to  you,  I  said,  if  I  can.  Every 
one  will  admit  that  a  nature  thus  gifted,  and  having  all  the 
supposed  conditions  of  the  philosophic  nature  perfect,  is  a 
plant  that  rarely  grows  among  men — there  are  not  many  of 
them. 

They  are  very  rare. 

And  what  numberless  causes  may  tend  utterly  to  destroy 
these  rare  natures  ! 

What  causes  ? 

In  the  first  place  there  are  their  own  virtues,  their  courage, 
temperance,  and  the  rest  of  them,  every  one  of  which  praise- 
worthy qualities  (and  this  is  a  most  singular  circumstance)  de- 
stroys and  distracts  from  philosophy  the  soul  which  is  the 
possessor  of  them.5 

That  is  very  singular,  he  replied. 

Then  there  are  all  the  ordinary  goods  of  life — beauty, 
wealth,  strength,  rank,  and  great  connections  in  the  State — on 
which  I  need  not  enlarge,  having  given  you  a  general  outline 
of  them  ;  these  also  have  the  effect  of  corrupting  and  distract- 
ing them. 

I  know  the  goods  which  you  mean,  and  I  should  like  to 
know  what  you  mean  about  them. 

Grasp  the  truth,  then,  as  a  whole,  I  said,  and  in  the  right 
way,  and  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  the  pre- 
ceding remarks,  and  they  will  not  appear  strange  to  you. 

And  how  am  I  to  do  that  ?  he  asked. 

Why,  I  said,  we  know  that  when  any  seed  or  plant,  whether 
vegetable  or  animal,  fails  to  meet  with  proper  nutriment  or 
climate  or  soil,  the  greater  the  vigor,  the  greater  the  need  also 
of  suitable  conditions,  because,  as  I  imagine,  evil  is  a  greater 
enemy  to  good  than  to  the  not-good. 

Very  true. 

There  is  reason  in  supposing  that  the  finest  natures,  when 
under  alien  conditions,  receive  more  injury  than  the  inferior, 
because  the  contrast  is  greater. 

That  is  true. 

And  may  we  not  say,  Adeimantus,  that  the   most  gifted 

minds,  when  they  are  ill-educated,  become  the  worst  ?     Do 

not  great  crimes  and  the  spirit  of  pure  evil  spring  out  of  a 

fullness  of  nature  ruined  by  education  rather  than  from  any 

6  Compare  495. 


300  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

inferiority,  whereas  weak  natures  are  scarcely  capable  of  any 
very  great  good  or  very  great  evil  ? 

There  I  think  that  you  are  right. 

And  our  philosopher  follows  the  same  analogy — he  is  like  a 
plant  which,  having  proper  nurture,  grows  and  matures  into 
all  virtue,  but,  if  sowed  and  planted  in  an  alien  soil, 
*  becomes  the  most  noxious  of  all  weeds,  unless  saved  by 
some  divine  help.  Do  you  really  think,  as  people  are  fond  of 
saying,  that  our  youth  are  corrupted  by  the  Sophists,  or  that 
individual  Sophisters  corrupt  them  in  any  degree  worth  speak- 
ing of?  Are  not  the  public  who  say  these  things  the  greatest 
of  all  Sophists?  And  do  they  not  educate  to  perfection  alike 
young  and  old,  men  and  women,  and  fashion  them  after  their 
own  hearts? 

When  is  this  accomplished  ?  he  said. 

When  they  meet  together,  and  the  world  sits  down  at  an 
assembly,  or  in  a  court  of  law,  or  a  theatre,  or  a  camp,  or  at 
some  other  place  of  resort,  and  there  is  a  great  uproar,  and 
they  praise  some  things  which  are  being  said  or  done,  and 
blame  other  things,  equally  exaggerating  in  both,  shouting 
and  clapping  their  hands,  and  the  echo  of  the  rocks  and  the 
place  in  which  they  are  assembled  redoubles  the  sound  of  the 
praise  or  blame — at  such  a  time  will  not  a  young  man's  heart 
leap  within  him  ?  Will  the  influences  of  education  stem  the 
tide  of  praise  or  blame,  and  not  rather  be  carried  away  in  the 
stream  ?  And  will  he  not  have  the  notions  of  good  and  evil 
which  the  public  in  general  have — he  will  do  as  they  do ;  and 
as  they  are,  such  will  he  be? 

Yes,  Socrates  ;  necessity  will  compel  him. 

And  yet,  I  said,  there  is  a  still  greater  necessity,  which  has 
not  been  mentioned. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  "  gentler  force  "  of  attainder  or  exile  or  death,  which, 
as  you  are  aware,  these  new  Sophists  and  educators,  who  are 
the  public,  apply  when  their  words  are  powerless. 

Indeed  they  do,  and  no  mistake. 

Now  what  opinion  of  any  other  Sophist,  or  of  any  private 
man,  can  be  expected  to  overcome  in  such  an  unequal  contest? 

None,  he  replied. 

No,  indeed,  I  said,  even  to  make  the  attempt  is  a  piece  of 
folly ;  for  there  neither  is,  has  been,  nor  ever  can  be,  as  I 


THE  REPUBLIC  3OI 

think,  another  type  of  character,  trained  to  virtue  indepen- 
dently of  them — I  speak,  my  friend,  of  man  only  ;  what  is 
more  than  man,  as  the  proverb  says,  is  not  included  :   for  I 
would  not  have  you  ignorant  that,  in  the  present  evil 
state  of  governments,  whatever  is  saved  and  comes  to    4 
good  is  saved  by  the  power  of  God,  as  you  may  truly  say. 

To  that  I  quite  assent,  he  replied. 

Then  let  me  beg  your  assent  also  to  a  further  observation. 

What  is  that  ? 

Why,  that  all  those  mercenary  adventurers,  whom  the  world 
calls  Sophists  and  rivals,  do  but  teach  the  collective  opinion  of 
the  many,  which  are  the  opinions  of  their  assemblies  ;  and  this 
is  their  wisdom.  I  might  compare  them  to  a  man  who  should 
study  the  tempers  and  desires  of  a  mighty  strong  beast  who  is 
fed  by  him — he  would  learn  how  to  approach  and  handle  him, 
also  at  what  times  and  from  what  causes  he  is  dangerous  or  the 
reverse,  and  what  is  the  meaning  of  his  several  cries,  and  by 
what  sounds,  when  another  utters  them,  he  is  soothed  or  in- 
furiated ;  and  you  may  suppose  further  that  when,  by  con- 
stantly living  with  him,  he  has  become  perfect  in  all  this  which 
he  calls  wisdom,  he  makes  a  system  or  art,  which  he  proceeds 
to  teach,  not  that  he  has  any  real  notion  of  what  he  is  teach- 
ing, but  he  names  this  honorable  and  that  dishonorable,  or 
good  or  evil,  or  just  or  unjust,  all  in  accordance  with  the 
tastes  and  tempers  of  the  great  brute,  when  he  has  learnt  the 
meaning  of  his  inarticulate  grunts.  Good  he  pronounces  to 
be  what  pleases  him,  and  evil  what  he  dislikes ;  and  he  can 
give  no  other  account  of  them  except  that  the  just  and  noble 
are  the  necessary,  having  never  himself  seen,  and  having  no 
power  of  explaining  to  others,  the  nature  of  either,  or  the  im- 
mense difference  between  them.  Would  not  he  be  a  rare  edu- 
cator ? 

Indeed,  I  think  that  he  would. 

And  in  what  respect  does  he  differ  from  him  who  thinks 
that  wisdom  is  the  discernment  of  the  tastes  and  pleasures  of 
the  assembled  multitude,  whether  in  painting  or  music,  or,  fi- 
nally, in  politics  ?  For  I  suppose  you  will  agree  that  he  who 
associates  with  the  many,  and  exhibits  to  them  his  poem  or 
other  work  of  art  or  political  service,  making  them  his  judges, 
except  under  potest,  will  also  experience  the  fatal  necessity  of 
producing  whatever  they  praise.     And  yet  the  reasons  are  ut- 


302  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

terly  ludicrous  which  they  give  in  confirmation  of  their  notions 
about  the  honorable  and  good.  Did  you  ever  hear  any  of  them 
which  were  not  ? 

No,  nor  am  I  likely  to  hear. 

You  recognize  the  truth  of  what  has  been  said  ?     Then  let 

me  ask  you  to  consider  further  whether  the  world  will  ever  be 

induced  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  absolute  beauty 

4        rather  than  of  the  many  beautiful,  or  of  the  absolute  in 

each  kind  rather  than  of  the  many  in  each  kind  ? 

Certainly  not. 

Then  the  world  cannot  possibly  be  a  philosopher? 

Impossible. 

And  therefore  philosophers  must  inevitably  fall  under  the 
censure  of  the  world  ? 

They  must. 

And  of  individuals  who  consort  with  the  mob  and  seek  to 
please  them  ? 

That  is  evident. 

Then,  do  you  see  any  way  in  which  the  philosopher  can  be 
preserved  in  his  calling  to  the  end  ?  and  remember  what  we 
were  saying  of  him,  that  he  was  to  have  knowledge  and  mem- 
ory and  courage  and  magnanimity — these  were  admitted  by 
us  to  be  the  true  philosopher's  gifts. 

Yes. 

Now,  will  not  such  an  one  be,  from  the  first,  in  all  things 
first  among  all,  especially  if  his  bodily  endowments  are  like  his 
mental  ones  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

And  his  friends  and  fellow-citizens  will  want  to  use  them  as 
he  gets  older  for  their  own  purposes  ? 

No  question. 

Falling  at  his  feet,  they  will  make  requests  to  him  and  do 
him  honor  and  flatter  him,  because  they  want  to  get  into  their 
hands  the  power  which  he  will  one  day  possess. 

That  is  often  the  way,  he  said. 

And  what  will  he  do  under  such  circumstances,  especially  if 
he  be  a  citizen  of  a  great  city,  rich  and  noble,  and  a  tall  proper 
youth?6  Will  he  not  be  full  of  boundless  aspirations,  and 
fancy  himself  able  to  manage  the  affairs  of  Hellenes  and  of  bar- 

•Bosanquet  thinks  this  passage  refers  to  Alcibiades.  See  Protagoras, 
note  i. 


THE   REPUBLIC 


303 


barians,  and  in  the  thought  of  this  he  will  dilate  and  elevate 
himself  in  the  fullness  of  vain  pomp  and  senseless  pride? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Now,  when  he  is  in  this  state  of  mind,  if  some  one  gently 
comes  to  him  and  tells  him  that  he  is  without  sense,  which  he 
must  have,  and  that  the  missing  sense  is  not  to  be  had  without 
serving  an  apprenticeship^  do  you  think  that,  under  such  ad- 
verse circumstances,  he  will  be  easily  induced  to  listen  to 
him  ? 

That  would  be  very  unlikely. 

But  suppose  further  that  there  is  one  person  who  has  feeling, 
and  who,  either  from  some  excellence  of  disposition  or  natural 
affinity,  is  inclined  or  drawn  towards  philosophy,  and  his 
friends  think  that  they  are  likely  to  lose  the  advantages  which 
they  were  going  to  reap  from  his  friendship,  what  will  be  the 
effect  upon  them  ?  Will  they  not  do  and  say  anything  to  pre- 
vent his  learning  and  to  render  the  teacher  powerless,  using  to 
this  end  private  intrigues  as  well  as  public  prosecutions? 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that. 

And  how  can  one  who  is  thus  circumstanced  ever  4  5 
become  a  philosopher  ? 

Impossible. 

Then,  were  we  not  right  in  saying  that  even  the  very  qualities 
which  make  a  man  a  philosopher  may,  if  he  be  ill-educated, 
serve  to  divert  him  from  philosophy,  no  less  than  riches  and 
their  accompaniments  and  the  other  so-called  goods  of  life?7 

That  was  quite  true. 

Thus,  my  excellent  friend,  is  brought  about  the  ruin  and 
failure  of  the  natures  best  adapted  to  the  best  of  all  pursuits, 
who,  as  we  assert,  are  rare  at  any  time ;  and  this  is  the  class 
out  of  whom  come  those  who  are  the  authors  of  the  greatest 
evil  to  States  and  individuals;  and  also  of  the  greatest  good 
when  the  tide  carries  them  in  the  direction  of  good  ;  but  a 
small  man  never  was  the  doer  of  any  great  thing  either  to 
individuals  or  States. 

That  is  most  true,  he  said. 

They  fall  away,  and  philosophy  is  left  desolate,  with  her 
marriage  rite  incomplete  : 8  for  her  own  have  forsaken  her,  and 

7  Compare  491. 

"Here,  as  so  often,  Plato  represents  the  relation  between  the  good  soul 
and  the  truth  by  the  figure  of  love  and  marriage. 


304  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

while  they  are  leading  a  false  and  unbecoming  life,  she,  like  an 
orphan  bereft  of  her  kindred,  is  dishonored  by  other  unworthy 
persons,  who  enter  in  and  fasten  upon  her  the  reproaches  which 
her  reprovers  utter ;  by  whom,  as  you  say,  her  votaries  are 
affirmed,  some  of  them  to  be  good  for  nothing,  and  the  greater 
number  deserving  of  everything  that  is  bad. 

That  is  certainly  what  is  said. 

Yes;  and  what  else  would  you  expect,  I  said,  when  you 
think  of  the  puny  creatures  who,  seeing  this  land  open  to  them 
— a  land  well  stocked  with  fair  names  and  showy  titles — like 
prisoners  who  run  away  out  of  prison  into  a  sanctuary,  take  a 
leap  out  of  the  arts  into  philosophy ;  those  who  do  so  being 
probably  the  cleverest  hands  at  their  own  miserable  crafts  ?  for, 
although  philosophy  be  in  this  evil  case,  still  there  remains  a 
dignity  about  her  which  is  not  found  in  the  other  arts.  And 
many  are  thus  attracted  by  her  whose  natures  are  imperfect  and 
whose  souls  are  marred  and  enervated  by  their  meannesses,  as 
their  bodies  also  are  disfigured  by  their  arts  and  crafts.  Is  not 
that  true? 

Yes. 

Are  they  not  exactly  like  a  bald  little  tinker  who  has  just 
got  out  of  durance  and  come  into  a  fortune  ;  he  washes  the 
dirt  off  him  and  has  a  new  coat,  and  is  decked  out  as  a  bride- 
groom going  to  marry  his  master's  daughter,  who  is  left  poor 
and  desolate  ? 

6        The  figure  is  exact. 

And  what  will  be  the  issue  of  such  marriages  ?     Will 
they  not  be  vile  and  bastard  ? 

There  can  be  no  question  of  that. 

And  when  persons  who  are  unworthy  of  education  approach 
philosophy  and  make  an  alliance  with  her  who  is  in  a  rank  above 
them,  what  sort  of  ideas  and  opinions  are  likely  to  be  generated  ? 
Will  they  not  be  sophisms  captivating  to  the  ear,  yet  having 
nothing  in  them  genuine  or  worthy  of  or  akin  to  true  wisdom  ? 

No  doubt,  he  said. 

Then  there  is  a  very  small  remnant,  Adeimantus,  I  said,  of 
worthy  disciples  of  philosophy  :  perchance  some  noble  nature, 
brought  up  under  good  influences,  and  in  the  absence  of  temp- 
tation, who  is  detained  by  exile  in  her  service,  which  he  refuses 
to  quit ;  or  some  lofty  soul  born  in  a  mean  city,  the  politics  of 
which  he  contemns  or  neglects  ;  and  perhaps  there  may  be  a 


THE   REPUBLIC  305 

few  who,  having  a  gift  for  philosophy,  leave  other  arts,  which 
they  justly  despise 9  and  come  to  her  ;  and  peradventure  there 
are  some  who  are  restrained  by  our  friend  Theages'  bridle  (for 
Theages,10 you  know,  had  everything  to  divert  him  from  philoso- 
phy ;  but  his  ill-health  kept  him  from  politics).  My  own  case 
of  the  internal  sign  n  is  indeed  hardly  worth  mentioning,  as 
very  rarely,  if  ever,  has  such  a  monitor  been  vouchsafed  to  any 
one  else.  Those  who  belong  to  this  small  class  have  tasted  how 
sweet  and  blessed  a  possession  philosophy  is,  and  have  also  seen 
and  been  satisfied  of  the  madness  of  the  multitude,  and  known 
that  there  is  no  one  who  ever  acts  honestly  in  the  administra- 
tion of  States,  nor  any  helper  who  will  save  any  one  who  main- 
tains the  cause  of  the  just.  Such  a  saviour  would  be  like  a 
man  who  has  fallen  among  wild  beasts — unable  to  join  in  the 
wickedness  of  his  fellows,  neither  would  he  be  able  alone  to  re- 
sist all  their  fierce  natures,  and  therefore  he  would  be  of  no  use 
to  the  State  or  to  his  friends,  and  would  have  to  throw  away  his 
life  before  he  had  done  any  good  to  himself  or  others.12  And 
he  reflects  upon  all  this,  and  holds  his  peace,  and  does  his  own 
business.  He  is  like  one  who  retires  under  the  shelter  of  a 
wall  in  the  storm  of  dust  and  sleet  which  the  driving  wind 
hurries  along  ;  and  when  he  sees  the  rest  of  mankind  full  of 
wickedness,  he  is  content  if  only  he  can  live  his  own  life  and 
be  pure  from  evil  or  unrighteousness,  and  depart  in  peace  and 
good  will,  with  bright  hopes. 

And  he  who  does  this,  he  said,  will  have  done  a  great  work 
before  he  departs. 

Yes,  I  said,  a  great  work,  but  not  the  greatest,  unless  he  find 
a  State  suitable  to  him  ;  for  in  a  State  which  is  suitable  to 
him  he  will  have  a  larger  growth,  and  be  the  saviour  of        ' 
his  country  as  well  as  of  himself. 

Enough,  then,  of  the  causes  why  philosophy  is  in  such  an 
evil  name ;  how  unjustly,  has  been  explained  :  and  now  is 
there  anything  more  which  you  wish  to  say  ? 

•See  Book  IX.,  590. 

10  Mentioned  in  Apology,  33. 

11  See  Apology,  31  and  40. 

n  Plato  had  personal  experiences  upon  which  to  base  this  passage.  His 
master  Socrates  had  been  martyred  (see  Apology,  31,  where  Socrates  tells  why 
he  took  no  part  in  public  affairs).  Plato  himself  had  been  sold  as  a  slave 
by  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse.  His  painful  experiences  in  endeavoring  to  re- 
form the  government  of  Syracuse  probably  occurred  after  the  writing  of  the 
Republic. 

20 


306  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Nothing  more  of  that,  he  replied  ;  but  I  should  like  to  know 
which  of  the  existing  governments  you  deem  suitable  to  phi- 
losophy. 

Not  any  of  them,  I  said ;  and  that  is  the  very  accusation 
which  I  bring  against  them  :  not  one  of  them  is  worthy  of  the 
philosophic  nature :  and  hence  that  nature  is  warped  and 
alienated  from  them  ;  as  the  exotic  seed  which  is  sown  in  a 
foreign  land  becomes  denaturalized,  and  assimilates  to  the 
character  of  the  soil,  which  gets  the  better,  even  so  this  growth 
of  philosophy,  instead  of  persisting,  receives  another  character. 
But  if  philosophy  ever  finds  that  perfection  in  the  State  which 
she  herself  is,  then  will  be  seen  that  she  is  in  truth  divine,  and 
that  all  other  things,  whether  natures  of  men  or  institutions, 
are  but  human  ;  and  now,  I  know,  that  you  are  going  to  ask 
what  that  State  is. 

No,  he  said ;  there  you  are  wrong,  for  I  was  going  to  ask 
another  question — whether  this  is  the  State  of  which  we  are 
the  founders  and  inventors,  or  another  ? 

Yes,  I  replied,  ours  in  most  respects  ;  but  you  may  remem- 
ber our  saying  before  that  some  living  authority  would  always 
be  required  in  the  State,  whose  idea  of  the  constitution  would 
be  the  same  which  guided  you  originally  when  laying  down 
the  laws. 

That  was  said,  he  replied. 

Yes,  but  imperfectly  said;  you  frightened  us  with  objec- 
tions, which  certainly  showed  that  the  discussion  would  be 
long  and  difficult;  and  even  what  remains  is  the  reverse  of 
easy. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  question  how  the  study  of  philosophy  may  be  so  ordered 
as  to  be  consistent  with  the  preservation  of  the  State  ;  for  all 
great  things  are  attended  with  risk;  as  the  saying  is,  "  Hard 
is  the  good." 

Still,  he  said,  let  us  clear  that  point  up,  and  the  inquiry  will 
then  be  complete. 

I  shall  not  be  hindered,  I  said,  by  any  want  of  will,  but, 
if  at  all,  by  a  want  of  power  :  of  my  zeal  you  shall  have  ocular 
demonstration ;  and  please  to  remark  how  bold  I  am  just  now 
in  venturing  to  assert  that  a  State  ought  not  to  have  philosophy 
studied  after  the  present  fashion. 

How  do  you  mean  ? 


THE  REPUBLIC  307 

At  present,  I  said,  even  those  who  study  philosophy  in  early 
youth,  and  in  the  intervals  of  money-making  and  housekeep- 
ing, do  but  make  an  approach  to  the  most  difficult  branch 
of  the  study,  and  then  take  themselves  off  (I  am  speak-  49 
ing  of  those  who  have  the  most  training,  and  by  the  most 
difficult  branch  I  mean  dialectic) ;  and  in  after  life  they  per- 
haps go  to  a  discussion  which  is  held  by  others,  and  to  which 
they  are  invited,  and  this  they  deem  a  great  matter,  as  the 
study  of  philosophy  is  not  regarded  by  them  as  their  proper 
business :  then,  as  years  advance,  in  most  cases  their  light  is 
quenched  more  truly  than  Heracleitus'  sun,  for  they  never  rise 
again.13 

But  what  ought  to  be  their  course? 

Just  the  opposite.  In  childhood  and  youth  their  study,  and 
what  philosophy  they  learn,  should  be  suited  to  their  tender 
age  :  let  them  take  care  of  their  bodies  during  the  period  of 
growth,  and  thus  philosophy  will  have  her  instruments  ready ; 
as  the  man  advances  to  mature  intelligence,  increasing  the 
gymnastics  of  the  soul ;  but  when  their  strength  fails,  and  is 
past  civil  and  military  duties,  then  let  them  range  at  will  and 
have  no  other  serious  employment,  as  we  intend  them  to  live 
happily  here,  and,  this  life  ended,  to  have  a  similar  happy 
destiny  in  another. 

How  truly  in  earnest  you  are,  Socrates !  he  said  ;  I  am  sure 
of  that ;  and  yet  I  believe  that  most  of  your  hearers  are  likely 
to  be  still  more  in  earnest  in  their  opposition  to  you,  and  will 
never  be  converted  ;  Thrasymachus  least  of  all. 

Don't  raise  a  quarrel,  I  said,  between  Thrasymachus  and 
me,  who  have  just  become  friends,  although,  indeed,  we  were 
never  enemies;  for  I  shall  go  on  using  every  effort  until  I 
either  convert  him  and  other  men,  or  do  something  which 
avails  against  the  day  when  they  live  again,  and  hold  the  like 
discourse  in  another  existence. 

That  will  be  a  long  time  hence. 

Say  rather,  I  replied,  a  time  which  is  not  to  be  reckoned 
in  comparison  with  eternity.  That  the  world  will  not  believe 
my  words  is  quite  natural ;  for  they  never  saw  that  of  which 
we  are  now  speaking  realized ;  what  they  saw  was  a  conven- 

13  Heracleitus  (her'a-kli'tus):  a  great  philosopher,  living  in  Ephesusin  Asia 
Minor  about  500  B.C.  Heracleitus  said  the  sun  was  extinguished  every 
evening  and  new  every  morning. 


308  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

tional  imitation  of  philosophy,  which  consisted  of  words  ar- 
tificially brought  together,  not  like  these  agreeing  of  their 
own  accord ;  but  a  human  being  who  in  word  and  work  is 
perfectly  moulded,  as  far  as  he  can  be,  into  the  proportion  and 
likeness  of  virtue,  such  an  one  ruling  in  a  city  which 
bears  the  same  image  they  have  never  yet  seen,  in  the 
case  of  one  any  more  than  of  many — do  you  think  they  ever 
did? 

No,  indeed. 

No,  my  friend,  nor  have  they  often  heard  the  words  of 
beauty  and  freedom ;  such  words  as  those  which  men  use 
when  they  are  earnestly  and  in  every  way  seeking  after  truth, 
for  the  sake  of  knowledge,  while  they  look  coldly  on  the 
subtleties  of  controversy,  the  end  of  which  is  opinion  and 
strife,  whether  they  meet  with  them  in  the  courts  of  law  or  in 
society. 

They  are  strangers,  he  said,  to  the  words  of  which  you 
speak. 

And  this  was  what  we  foresaw,  and  this  was  the  reason  why 
truth  forced  us  to  admit  that  there  is  no  chance  of  perfection, 
either  in  cities  or  governments  or  individuals,  until  a  neces- 
sity was  laid  upon  the  second  small  class  of  philosophers  (not 
the  rogues,  but  those  whom  we  termed  useless),  of  taking  care 
of  the  State  and  obeying  the  call  of  the  State ;  or  until  kings 
themselves,  or  the  sons  of  kings  or  potentates,  were  inspired 
with  a  true  love  of  philosophy.  Now  I  maintain  that  there  is 
no  reason  in  saying  that  either  of  these  alternatives,  or  both  of 
them,  is  impossible;  if  they  were,  we  might  indeed  be  justly 
ridiculed  as  dreamers  and  visionaries.     Am  I  not  right  ? 

Quite  right. 

If  then,  in  the  countless  ages  of  the  past,  or  at  the  present 
hour  in  some  foreign  clime  which  is  far  away  and  beyond  our 
ken,  the  perfected  philosopher  is  or  has  been  or  shall  be  here- 
after compelled  by  a  superior  power  to  have  the  charge  of  the 
State,  we  are  ready  to  assert  to  the  death,  that  this  our  con- 
stitution has  been,  is,  yea,  and  will  be  at  any  time,  when  the 
Muse  of  Philosophy  is  queen.  Neither  is  there  any  impossi- 
bility in  this ;  the  difficulty  is  not  denied  by  us. 

I  agree  with  you,  he  said. 

But  you  will  say  that  mankind  in  general  are  not  agreed? 

That  is  what  I  should  say,  he  replied. 


THE   REPUBLIC  309 

0  my  friend,  I  said,  do  not  have  such  a  bad  opinion  of 
mankind  :  they  will  surely  be  of  another  mind,  if  gently  and 
with  the  view  of  soothing  them  and  removing  the  evil  name  of 
too  much  learning,  you  show  them  the  philosopher  as  just  now 
described,  according  to  his  true  character  and  profes- 
sion, and  then  they  will  see  that  you  are  not  speaking  of 
those  whom  they  supposed ;  if  they  view  him  in  this  light, 
they  will  surely  change  their  mind,  and  answer  in  another 
strain.  Who  can  be  at  enmity  with  one  who  loves  them ;  who 
that  is  himself  gentle  and  free  from  envy  will  be  jealous  of  one 
in  whom  there  is  no  jealousy  ?  Nay,  let  me  answer  for  you, 
that  a  few  such  there  may  be,  but  not  many  who  have  so 
harsh  a  temper. 

1  entirely  agree  with  you,  he  said. 

And  do  you  not  agree  with  me  also  as  to  the  cause  of  the 
harsh  feeling  which  the  many  have  towards  philosophy  ?  This 
originates  in  the  pretenders,  who  enter  in,  like  a  band  of  rev- 
elers, where  they  have  no  business,  and  are  always  abusing 
and  quarreling  with  them,  who  make  persons  instead  of  things 
the  theme  of  their  conversation  ;  and  this  is  most  unbecoming 
in  philosophers. 

Most  unbecoming. 

For  he,  Adeimantus,  whose  mind  is  fixed  upon  true  being 
has  no  time  to  look  down  upon  the  affairs  of  men,  or  to  be 
filled  with  jealousy  and  enmity  in  the  struggle  against  them  ; 
his  eye  is  ever  directed  towards  fixed  and  immutable  princi- 
ples, which  he  sees  neither  injuring  nor  injured  by  one  an- 
other, but  all  in  order  moving  according  to  reason  ;  these  he 
imitates,  and  to  these  he  would,  as  far  as  he  can,  conform  him- 
self. Can  a  man  help  imitating  that  with  which  he  holds  rev- 
erential converse? 

Impossible. 

And  the  philosopher  also,  conversing  with  the  divine  and 
immutable,  becomes  a  part  of  that  divine  and  immutable  or- 
der,14 as  far  as  nature  allows  ;  but  all  things  are  liable  to  de- 
traction. 

Certainly. 

And  if  a  necessity  be  laid  upon  him   of  fashioning,  not 

14  The  thought  that  if  we  lovingly  attend  to  the  divine,  we  shall  imitate 
the  divine,  and  that  if  we  lovingly  imitate  the  divine  we  shall  become  divine 
and  eternal  is  the  argument  of  S.  John  xv. 


310  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

only  himself  but  human  nature  generally,  whether  in  States  or 
individuals,  into  that  which  he  there  beholds,  think  you  that 
he  will  be  an  unskillful  artificer  of  justice,  temperance,  and 
every  civil  virtue  ? 

Anything  but  unskillful. 

And  if  the  world  perceives  that  we  are  speaking  the  truth 
about  him,  will  they  be  angry  with  philosophy  ?  Will  they 
disbelieve  us,  when  we  tell  them  that  the  State  can  only  be 
happy  which  is  planned  by  artists  who  make  use  of  the  heav- 
enly pattern  ? 

They  will  not  be  angry  if  they  only  understand,  he 
5        replied.     But  what  do  you  mean  about  the  plan  ? 

I  mean,  I  replied,  that  they  will  take  a  State  and  human 
nature  for  their  tablet  and  begin  by  making  a  clean  surface. 
Now  this  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  do ;  and  this  is  the  mark 
which  at  once  distinguishes  them  from  every  other  legis- 
lator,— they  will  have  nothing  to  do,  either  with  individual 
or  State,  and  will  inscribe  no  laws,  until  they  have  either 
found,  or  themselves  made,  a  clean  surface. 

They  will  be  very  right,  he  said. 

Having  effected  this,  they  will  proceed  to  make  an  outline 
of  the  constitution. 

No  doubt. 

And  in  the  course  of  the  work,  as  I  conceive,  they  will 
often  turn  their  eyes  first  towards  one,  then  towards  the  other. 
I  mean  that  they  will  look  at  justice  and  beauty  and  temper- 
ance as  they  are  in  nature,  and  again  at  the  corresponding 
quality  in  mankind,  and  they  will  inlay  the  true  human  image, 
moulding  and  selecting  out  of  the  various  forms  of  life  ;  and 
this  they  will  conceive  according  to  that  other  image,  which, 
when  existing  among  men,  Homer  calls  the  form  and  likeness 
of  God. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

And  one  feature  they  will  erase,  and  another  they  will  in- 
scribe, until  they  have  made  the  ways  of  men,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, agreeable  to  the  ways  of  God  ? 

Indeed,  he  said,  in  no  other  way  could  they  make  a  fairer 
picture. 

And  now,  I  said,  do  you  think  that  we  are  beginning  to 
persuade  those  whom  you  said  were  rushing  at  us  with  might 
and  main,  that  the  painter  of  constitutions  is  such  an  one  as 


THE   REPUBLIC  311 

we  were  praising, — he,  I  mean,  at  whom  they  were  so  much 
infuriated,  because  into  his  hands  we  committed  the  State, 
or  are  they  growing  calmer  at  what  they  hear  ? 

Much  calmer,  if  there  is  any  sense  in  them. 

Why,  where  can  they  still  find  any  ground  for  objection  ? 
Will  they  doubt  that  the  philosopher  is  a  lover  of  truth  and 
being  ? 

That  would  be  monstrous. 

Or  that  his  nature,  being  such  as  we  have  delineated,  is  akin 
to  the  highest  good  ? 

Neither  can  they  doubt  that. 

But  again,  will  they  tell  us  that  such  a  nature,  if  properly 
trained,  will  not  be  perfectly  good  and  wise  as  much  as  any 
that  ever  was  ?  Or  will  they  prefer  those  whom  we  have 
set  aside  ? 

Surely  not. 

Then  will  they  still  be  angry  at  our  saying,  that  until 
philosophers  bear  rule  in  States,  the  evils  of  States  and  indi- 
viduals will  never  cease,  nor  will  this  our  imaginary  State  ever 
be  realized  ? 

I  think  that  they  will  be  less  angry. 

Shall  we  assume  that  they  are  not  only  less  angry  but  quite 
gentle,  and  that  they  have  been  converted  and  for  very 
shame  cannot  refuse  to  come  to  terms  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Then  now  we  may  assume  that  they  have  been  converted. 
And  will  any  one  deny  the  other  point,  that  there  may  be 
sons  of  kings  who  are  philosophers  ? 

No  one  will  doubt  that,  he  said. 

And  when  they  have  come  into  being  will  any  one  say  that 
they  must  of  necessity  be  destroyed  ;  for  that  they  can  hardly 
be  saved  is  not  denied  even  by  us,  but  all  will  allow  that,  in 
the  whole  course  of  ages,  peradventure  a  single  one  may  be 
saved  ? 

Surely. 

But,  said  I,  one  is  enough  ;  let  there  be  one  man  who  has 
a  city  obedient  to  his  will,  and  he  might  bring  the  ideal  pol- 
ity into  being. 

Yes,  one  is  enough. 

When  the  ruler  has  framed  these  laws  and  institutions, 
the  citizens  may  possibly  be  willing  to  obey  them  ? 


312  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Certainly. 

And  that  others  should  approve  of  what  we  approve,  is  no 
miracle  or  impossibility  ? 

I  think  not. 

But  we  have  sufficiently  shown,  in  what  has  preceded,  that 
all  this,  if  only  possible,  is  assuredly  for  the  best. 

Yes,  that  has  been  proved. 

The  conclusion  is,  then,  that  our  laws  are  best,  and,  though 
difficult  of  attainment,  are  not  wholly  unattainable. 

Very  good. 

And  now  that  this  difficulty  is  ended  another  arises ;  how 
and  by  what  studies  and  pursuits  will  saviours  of  the  consti- 
tution be  formed,  and  at  what  ages  are  they  to  apply  them- 
selves to  their  several  studies  ? — that  has  now  to  be  dis- 
cussed. 

Yes,  certainly. 

I  omitted  the  troublesome  business  of  the  possession  of 
women,  and  the  procreation  of  children,  and  the  appointment 
of  the  rulers,  because  I  knew  that  the  perfect  State  would  be 
eyed  with  jealousy  and  was  difficult  of  attainment ;  but  that 
piece  of  cleverness  was  not  of  much  use  to  me,  for  I  had  to 
discuss  them  all  the  same.  And  now,  having  done  with  the 
women  and  children,  I  must  pursue  the  other  question  of  the 
rulers,  beginning  at  the  beginning.  We  were  saying,  as  you 
will  remember,  that  they  were  to  be  lovers  of  their  country, 
tried  amid  the  influences  of  pleasures  and  pains,  and 
neither  in  labors,  nor  fears,  nor  any  other  change  of  cir- 
cumstances were  to  lose  their  patriotism  ;  and  he  who  failed 
in  this  was  to  be  rejected,  but  he  who  always  came  forth  pure, 
like  gold  tried  in  the  refiners'  fire,  was  to  be  made  a  ruler, 
and  to  receive  honors  and  rewards  in  life  and  after  death. 
That  was  the  sort  of  thing  which  was  being  said,  and  then  the 
argument  turned  aside  and  veiled  her  face  ;  not  liking  to  stir 
the  question  which  has  now  arisen. 

I  perfectly  remember  that,  he  said. 

Yes,  my  friend,  I  said,  and  I  then  shrank  from  hazarding 
the  bold  word  ;  but  now  let  me  dare  to  say, — that  the  per- 
fect guardian  must  be  a  philosopher. 

Yes,  he  said,  let  that  be  proclaimed. 

And  consider,  I  said,  that  there  will  not  be  many  of 
them, — that  is  not  to  be  expected  ;  for  the  gifts  which  we  said 


THE    REPUBLIC  313 

were  essential  rarely  grow  together  ;  they  are  mostly  found  in 
shreds  and  patches. 

What  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

You  are  aware,  I  replied,  that  persons  who  have  quick  in- 
telligence, memory,  sagacity,  shrewdness,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  are  not  often  of  a  nature  which  is  willing  at  the  same 
time  to  live  orderly  and  in  a  peaceful  and  settled  manner  ; 
and  this  is  equally  true  of  the  high-spirited  and  magnanimous  ; 
they  are  driven  any  way  by  their  impetuosity,  and  all  their 
solid  principle  goes  out  of  them. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

On  the  other  hand,  those  steadfast,  immovable  natures  upon 
which  you  can  rely,  and  which  have  not  the  wit  to  run  away 
in  a  battle,  are  equally  immovable  when  there  is  anything  to 
be  learned  ;  they  seem  to  be  in  a  torpid  state,  and  are  apt  to 
yawn  and  go  to  sleep  over  any  intellectual  toil. 

That  is  true. 

And  yet  we  were  saying  that  both  qualities  were  necessary 
in  those  to  whom  the  higher  education  is  to  be  imparted,  and 
who  are  to  share  in  any  office  or  command. 

True,  he  said. 

And  will  they  be  a  class  which  is  rarely  found? 

Yes,  indeed. 

Then  the  aspirant  must  be  tested  in  those  labors  and  dan- 
gers and  pleasures  which  we  mentioned  before  ;  and  there  is 
another  kind  of  probation  which  we  did  not  mention, — they 
must  be  exercised  also  in  many  kinds  of  knowledge,  to  see 
whether  the  soul  will  be  able  to  endure  the  highest  of  all,  or 
will  faint  under  them,  as  many  do  amid  the  toils  of  the 
games. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  way  in  which  we  ought  to  regard 
them.  But  what  do  you  mean  by  the  highest  of  all  knowl- 
edge? 

You  may  remember,  I  said,  that  we  divided  the  soul  into 
three  parts,15  and  the  several  natures  of  justice,  temperance, 
courage,  and  wisdom  were  compared  and  defined  by  us  ? 

Indeed,  he  said,  if  I  had  forgotten  that,  I  should  not  deserve 
to  hear  more. 

And  do  you  remember,  I  said,  what  preceded  the  discussion 
of  them  ? 

16  See  Book  IV. ,  435-442. 


314  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

What  was  that? 

We  spoke,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  of  a  perfect  way,  which 
was  longer  and  more  circuitous,  at  the  end  of  which  they 
were  to  appear  in  full  view  ;  this  however,  as  we  said,  need 
not  prevent  our  offering  an  exposition  of  a  popular  sort,  in 
character  like  what  had  preceded.  And  you  replied  that  such 
an  exposition  would  be  enough  for  you,  and  so  the  inquiry 
was  continued  in  what  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  imperfect 
manner  ;  but  whether  you  were  satisfied  or  not  is  for  you  to 
say. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  thought  and  the  others  thought  that  you 
gave  us  a  fair  measure  of  truth. 

But,  my  friend,  I  said,  a  measure  of  such  things  which  in 
any  degree  falls  short  of  the  truth  is  not  fair  measure ;  for 
nothing  imperfect  is  the  measure  of  anything,  although  per- 
sons are  too  apt  to  be  contented  and  think  that  they  need 
search  no  further. 

Yes,  that  is  not  uncommon  when  people  are  indolent. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  and  there  cannot  be  any  worse  fault  in  the 
guardian  of  a  State  and  the  laws. 

True. 

The  guardian  then,  I  said,  must  be  required  to  take  the 
longer  route,  and  toil  at  learning  as  well  as  at  gymnastics,  or 
he  will  never  reach  the  height  of  that  knowledge  which  is  his 
proper  calling. 

What,  he  said,  is  there  a  knowledge  still  higher  than  these 
— higher  than  justice  and  the  other  virtues  ? 

Yes,  I  said,  there  is.  And  of  these  too  we  must  behold  not 
the  outline  merely,  as  at  present — nothing  short  of  the  most 
perfect  representation  should  satisfy  us.  When  little  things 
are  elaborated  with  an  infinity  of  pains,  in  order  that  they  may 
appear  in  full  clearness  and  precision,  how  ridiculous  that  the 
highest  truths  should  not  be  held  worthy  of  the  greatest 
exactness  ! 

Yes,  said  he,  and  that  is  a  right  noble  thought  ;  but  do  you 
suppose  that  we  shall  refrain  from  asking  you  which  are  the 
highest  ? 

Nay,  I  said,  ask  if  you  will ;  but  I  am  certain  that  you 

have  often  heard  the  answer,  and  now  you  either  do  not 

understand  or  you  are  disposed  to  be  troublesome  ;  I  incline 

to  think  the  latter,  for  you  have  been  often  told  that  the  idea 


THE  REPUBLIC  315 

of  good  is  the  highest  knowledge,  and  that  all  other  things  be- 
come useful  and  advantageous  only  by  their  use  of  this.  And 
you  must  be  quite  aware  that  of  this  I  am  about  to  speak,  con- 
cerning which,  as  I  shall  say,  we  know  so  little  ;  and,  wanting 
which,  any  other  knowledge  or  possession  of  any  kind  will 
profit  us  nothing.  Do  you  think  that  the  possession  of  the 
whole  world  is  of  any  value  without  the  good  ?  or  of  all  wis- 
dom, without  the  beautiful  and  good  ? 16 

No,  indeed,  he  said. 

You  are  doubtless  aware  that  most  people  call  pleasure  good, 
and  the  finer  sort  of  wits  say  wisdom  ?  And  you  are  aware 
that  the  latter  cannot  explain  the  nature  of  wisdom,  but  are 
obliged  after  all  to  say  that  wisdom  is  of  the  good  ? 

That  is  very  ridiculous,  he  said. 

Yes,  I  said,  that  they  should  begin  by  reproaching  us  with 
our  ignorance,  and  then  presume  our  knowledge  of  good — for 
wisdom,  as  they  say,  is  of  the  good,  which  implies  that  we  un- 
derstand them  when  they  use  the  term  "good  " — is  certainly 
ridiculous. 

Most  true,  he  said. 

And  those  who  make  pleasure  their  good  are  in  equal  per- 
plexity j  for  they  are  compelled  to  admit  that  there  are  bad 
pleasures  as  well  as  good. 

Certainly. 

And  therefore  to  acknowledge  that  bad  and  good  are  the 
same? 

True. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  numerous  difficulties  in 
which  this  question  is  involved. 

There  can  be  none. 

Well,  and  is  not  this  an  obvious  fact,  that  many  are  willing 
to  possess,  or  to  do,  or  to  wear  the  appearance  of  the  just  and 
honorable  without  the  reality  ;  but  no  one  is  satisfied  to  possess 
the  appearance  of  good — the  reality  is  what  they  seek ;  the 
appearance  in  the  case  of  the  good  is  despised  by  every  one. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

This,  then,  which  every  man  pursues  and  makes  his  end, 
having  a  presentiment  that  there  is  such  an  end,  and  yet  hesi- 
tating because  neither  knowing  the  nature  nor  having  the  same 

i«  <<  What  is  a  man  profited  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own 
soul" — Matthew  xvi.  26. 


316  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

sure  proof  of  this  as  of  other  things,  and  therefore  having  no 

profit  in  other  things, — is  this,  I  would  ask,  a  principle  about 

which  those  who  are  called  the  best  men  in  the  State, 

and  to  whom  everything  is  to  be  entrusted,  ought  to  be 

in  such  darkness  ? 

Certainly  not,  he  said. 

I  am  sure,  I  said,  that  he  who  does  not  know  how  the  beau- 
tiful and  the  just  are  likewise  good  will  not  be  worth  much  as 
a  guardian  of  them  :  and  I  suspect  that  no  one  will  have  a  true 
knowledge  of  them  without  this  knowledge. 

That,  he  said,  is  a  shrewd  suspicion  of  yours. 

And  if  we  only  have  a  guardian  who  has  this  knowledge  our 
State  will  be  perfectly  ordered  ? 

Of  course,  he  replied  ;  but  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  whether 
you  conceive  this  supreme  principle  of  the  good  to  be  knowl- 
edge or  pleasure,  or  different  from  either  ? 

Aye,  I  said,  I  knew  quite  well  that  a  fine  gentleman  like  you 
would  not  be  contented  with  the  thoughts  of  other  men. 

True,  Socrates ;  and  I  must  say  that  you  have  no  right  to 
be  always  repeating  the  opinions  of  others,  and  never  to  tell 
your  own,  and  this  after  having  passed  a  lifetime  in  the  study 
of  philosophy. 

Well,  but  has  any  one  a  right  to  say,  positively,  what  he 
does  not  know  ? 

Not,  he  said,  with  the  positivenessof  knowledge  ;  he  has  no 
right  to  do  that :  but  he  ought  to  say  what  he  thinks,  as  a 
matter  of  opinion. 

But  do  you  not  know,  I  said,  that  opinions  are  bad  all,  and 
the  best  of  them  blind  ?  You  would  not  deny  that  those  who 
have  any  true  notion  without  intelligence  are  only  like  blind 
men  finding  their  way  along  a  straight  road  ? 

Very  true. 

And  do  you  wish  to  behold  what  is  blind  and  crooked  and 
base,  when  brightness  and  beauty  are  within  your  reach? 

Still,  I  must  implore  you,  Socrates,  said  Glaucon,  not  to 
turn  away  just  as  you  are  reaching  the  goal ;  if  you  will  only 
give  such  an  explanation  of  the  good  as  you  have  already  given 
about  justice  and  temperance  and  the  other  virtues,  that  will 
satisfy  us. 

Yes,  my  friend,  I  said,  and  that  will  satisfy  me  too,  extremely 
well,  but  I  cannot  help  fearing  that  I  shall  fail,  and  that  in  my 


THE   REPUBLIC  317 

zeal  I  shall  make  a  fool  of  myself.  No,  sweet  sirs,  let  us  not 
at  present  ask  what  is  the  actual  nature  of  the  good,  for  to 
reach  what  is  in  my  thoughts  now  is  too  much  for  me  in  my 
present  mood.  But  of  the  child  of  the  good  who  is  likest  him, 
I  would  fain  speak,  if  I  could  be  sure  that  you  wished  to  hear 
— otherwise,  not. 

Nay,  he  said,  speak  ;  the  child  shall  be  the  interest,  and  you 
shall  remain  in  our  debt  for  an  account  of  the  parent  or 
principal. 

I  do  indeed  wish,  I  replied,  that  I  could  pay,  and  you 
receive,  the  parent  or  principal  account,  and  not,  as  now,  the 
interest  or  child  only  ;  take,  however,  the  child,  which 
is  the  interest,  and  at  the  same  time  have  a  care  that  I      _,j 
do  not  render  a  false  account,  although  I  have  no  inten- 
tion of  deceiving  you. 

Yes,  we  will  take  all  the  care  that  we  can  :   proceed. 

Yes,  I  said,  but  I  must  first  come  to  an  understanding  with 
you,  and  remind  you  of  what  I  have  mentioned  in  the  course 
of  this  discussion,  and  at  many  other  times. 

What  is  that  ?  he  said. 

The  old  story,  that  there  is  a  many  beautiful  and  a  many 
good,  and  so  of  other  things  which  we  describe  and  define  ;  to 
all  of  them  the  term  "  many  "  is  applied. 

True,  he  said. 

And  there  is  an  absolute  beauty  and  an  absolute  good,  and 
so  of  other  things  to  which  the  term  "  many"  is  applied  ;  they 
may  be  brought  under  a  single  idea,  which  is  called  the  es- 
sence of  each. 

That  is  true. 

The  many,  as  we  say,  are  seen  but  not  known,  and  the  ideas 
are  known  but  not  seen. 

[There  is  an  analogy  between  material  vision  and  intellectual 
vision.  The  material  sun  generates  and  nourishes  the  things 
in  the  world  which  we  see,  and  also  gives  us  light  by  which 
to  see  them.  In  like  manner  the  good  is  the  true  creator  of 
the  essence  of  things  and  also  the  author  of  all  knowledge  of 
the  essence  of  things.  It  may  be  said  that  material  vision 
gives  two  degrees  of  imperfect  knowledge  or  opinion,  the  more 
imperfect  being  the  perception  of  shadows,  and  the  less  imper- 
fect being  the  perception  of  material  objects ;  also  that  intel- 


318  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

lectual  vision  gives  two  degrees  of  more  perfect  knowledge, 
the  lower  being  such  knowledge  as  we  have  in  the  pure  sci- 
ences of  arithmetic,  geometry  and  the  like,  while  the  highest 
of  all  knowledge  is  dialectic,  which  brings  us  to  a  pure  insight 
into  pure  truth.") 


THE  REPUBLIC  319 


BOOK  VII 

After  this,  I  said,  imagine  the  enlightenment  or  ignorance 
of  our  nature  in  a  figure  :  Behold  !  human  beings  living  in  a 
sort  of  underground  den,  which  has  a  mouth  open  towards  the 
light  and  reaching  all  across  the  den ;  they  have  been  here 
from  their  childhood,  and  have  their  legs  and  necks  chained 
so  that  they  cannot  move,  and  can  only  see  before  them ;  for 
the  chains  are  arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  prevent  them 
from  turning  round  their  heads.  At  a  distance  above  and  be- 
hind them  the  light  of  a  fire  is  blazing,  and  between  the  fire 
and  the  prisoners  there  is  a  raised  way ;  and  you  will  see,  if 
you  look,  a  low  wall  built  along  the  way,  like  the  screen  which 
marionette  players  have  before  them,  over  which  they  show 
the  puppets. 

I  see,  he  said. 

And  do  you  see,  I  said,  men  passing  along  the  wall  carrying 
vessels,  which  appear  over  the  wall ;  also  figures  of  men 
and  animals,  made  of  wood  and  stone  and  various  mate- 
rials ;  and  some  of  the  passengers,  as  you  would  expect,  are 
talking,  and  some  of  them  are  silent  ? 

That  is  a  strange  image,  he  said,  and  they  are  strange  pris- 
oners. 

Like  ourselves,  I  replied ;  and  they  see  only  their  own  shad- 
ows, or  the  shadows  of  one  another,  which  the  fire  throws  on 
the  opposite  wall  of  the  cave  ? 

True,  he  said  ;  how  could  they  see  anything  but  the  shadows 
if  they  were  never  allowed  to  move  their  heads  ? 

And  of  the  objects  which  are  being  carried  in  like  manner 
they  would  only  see  the  shadows  ? 

Yes,  he  said. 

And  if  they  were  able  to  talk  with  one  another,  would  they 
not  suppose  that  they  were  naming  what  was  actually  before 
them  ? 

Very  true. 

And  suppose  further  that  the  prison  had  an  echo  which 
came  from  the  other  side,  would  they  not  be  sure  to  fancy 
that  the  voice  which  they  heard  was  that  of  a  passing  shadow? 

No  question,  he  replied. 


320  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

There  can  be  no  question,  I  said,  that  the  truth  would  be 
to  them  just  nothing  but  the  shadows  of  the  images. 

That  is  certain. 

And  now  look  again,  and  see  how  they  are  released  and 
cured  of  their  folly.  At  first,  when  any  one  of  them  is  lib- 
erated and  compelled  suddenly  to  go  up  and  turn  his  neck 
round  and  walk  and  look  at  the  light,  he  will  suffer  sharp 
pains ;  the  glare  will  distress  him,  and  he  will  be  unable  to 
see  the  realities  of  which  in  his  former  state  he  had  seen  the 
shadows ;  and  then  imagine  some  one  saying  to  him,  that 
what  he  saw  before  was  an  illusion,  but  that  now  he  is  ap- 
proaching real  being  and  has  a  truer  sight  and  vision  of  more 
real  things, — what  will  be  his  reply?  And  you  may  further 
imagine  that  his  instructor  is  pointing  to  the  objects  as  they 
pass  and  requiring  him  to  name  them, — will  he  not  be  in  a 
difficulty  ?  Will  he  not  fancy  that  the  shadows  which  he 
formerly  saw  are  truer  than  the  objects  which  are  now  shown 
to  him  ? 

Far  truer. 

And  if  he  is  compelled  to  look  at  the  light,  will  he  not  have 
a  pain  in  his  eyes  which  will  make  him  turn  away  to  take 
refuge  in  the  object  of  vision  which  he  can  see,  and  which  he 
will  conceive  to  be  clearer  than  the  things  which  are  now 
being  shown  to  him? 

True,  he  said. 

And  suppose  once  more,  that  he  is  reluctantly  dragged  up 
a  steep  and  rugged  ascent,  and  held  fast  and  forced  into  the 

,     presence  of  the  sun  himself,  do  you  not  think  that  he 

will  be  pained  and  irritated,  and  when  he  approaches 

the  light  he  will  have  his  eyes  dazzled,  and  will  not  be  able 

to  see  any  of  the  realities  which  are  now  affirmed  to  be  the 

truth  ? 

Not  all  in  a  moment,  he  said. 

He  will  require  to  get  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  the  upper 
world.  And  first  he  will  see  the  shadows  best,  next  the  reflec- 
tions of  men  and  other  objects  in  the  water,  and  then  the  ob- 
jects themselves  ;  next  he  will  gaze  upon  the  light  of  the  moon 
and  the  stars  ;  and  he  will  see  the  sky  and  the  stars  by  night, 
better  than  the  sun,  or  the  light  of  the  sun,  by  day? 

Certainly. 

And  at  last  he  will  be  able  to  see  the  sun,  and  not  mere  re- 


THE   REPUBLIC  321 

flections  of  him  in  the  water,  but  he  will  see  him  as  he  is  in  his 
own  proper  place,  and  not  in  another,  and  he  will  contemplate 
his  nature. 

Certainly. 

And  after  this  he  will  reason  that  the  sun  is  he  who  gives 
the  seasons  and  the  years,  and  is  the  guardian  of  all  that  is  in 
the  visible  world,  and  in  a  certain  way  the  cause  of  all  things 
which  he  and  his  fellows  have  been  accustomed  to  behold  ? 

Clearly,  he  said,  he  would  come  to  the  other  first  and  to 
this  afterwards. 

And  when  he  remembered  his  old  habitation,  and  the  wis- 
dom of  the  den  and  his  fellow-prisoners,  do  you  not  suppose 
that  he  would  felicitate  himself  on  the  change,  and  pity  them  ? 

Certainly,  he  would. 

And  if  they  were  in  the  habit  of  conferring  honors  on  those 
who  were  quickest  to  observe  and  remember  and  foretell  which 
of  the  shadows  went  before,  and  which  followed  after,  and 
which  were  together,  do  you  think  that  he  would  care  for 
such  honors  and  glories,  or  envy  the  possessors  of  them? 
Would  he  not  say  with  Homer, — 

M  Better  to  be  a  poor  man,  and  have  a  poor  master," 

and  endure  anything,  rather  than  to  think  and  live  after  their 
manner  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  I  think  that  he  would  rather  suffer  anything 
than  live  after  their  manner. 

Imagine  once  more,  I  said,  that  such  an  one  coming  sud- 
denly out  of  the  sun  were  to  be  replaced  in  his  old  situation, 
is  he  not  certain  to  have  his  eyes  full  of  darkness  ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  if  there  were  a  contest,  and  he  had  to  compete  in 
measuring  the  shadows  with  the  prisoners  who  have  never 
moved  out  of  the  den,  during  the  time  that  his  sight  is 
weak,  and  before  his  eyes  are  steady  (and  the  time  which 
would  be  needed  to  acquire  this  new  habit  of  sight  might  be 
very  considerable) ,  would  he  not  be  ridiculous  ?  Men  would  say 
of  him  that  up  he  went  and  down  he  comes  without  his  eyes  ; 
and  that  there  was  no  use  in  even  thinking  of  ascending  :  and 
if  any  one  tried  to  loose  another  and  lead  him  up  to  the  light, 
let  them  only  catch  the  offender  in  the  act,  and  they  would 
put  him  to  death. 


322  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

No  question,  he  said. 

This  allegory,  I  said,  you  may  now  append  to  the  previous 
argument ;  the  prison  is  the  world  of  sight,  the  light  of  the 
fire  is  the  sun,  the  ascent  and  vision  of  the  things  above  you 
may  truly  regard  as  the  upward  progress  of  the  soul  into  the 
intellectual  world  ;  that  is  my  poor  belief,  to  which,  at  your 
desire,  I  have  given  expression.  Whether  I  am  right  or  not 
God  only  knows ;  but,  whether  true  or  false,  my  opinion  is 
that  in  the  world  of  knowledge  the  idea  of  good  appears  last 
of  all,  and  is  seen  only  with  an  effort ;  and,  when  seen,  is  also 
inferred  to  be  the  universal  author  of  all  things  beautiful  and 
right,  parent  of  light  and  the  lord  of  light  in  this  world,  and 
the  source  of  truth  and  reason  in  the  other  :  this  is  the  first 
great  cause  which  he  who  would  act  rationally  either  in  pub- 
lic or  private  life  must  behold. 

I  agree,  he  said,  as  far  as  I  am  able  to  understand  you. 

I  should  like  to  have  your  agreement  in  another  matter,  I 
said.  For  I  would  not  have  you  marvel  that  those  who  attain 
to  this  beatific  vision  are  unwilling  to  descend  to  human  af- 
fairs ;  but  their  souls  are  ever  hastening  into  the  upper  world 
in  which  they  desire  to  dwell ;  and  this  is  very  natural,  if  our 
allegory  may  be  trusted  .w        _ 

Certainly,  that  is  quite  natural. 

And  is  there  anything  surprising  in  one  who  passes  from 
divine  contemplations  to  human  things,  misbehaving  himself 
in  a  ridiculous  manner ;  if,  while  his  eyes  are  blinking  and 
before  he  has  become  accustomed  to  the  darkness  visible,  he 
is  compelled  to  fight  in  courts  of  law,  or  in  other  places,  about 
the  images  or  shadows  of  images  of  justice,  and  is  endeavoring 
to  meet  the  conceptions  of  those  who  have  never  yet  seen  the 
absolute  justice  ? 

There  is  nothing  surprising  in  that,  he  replied. 

Any  one  who  has  common  sense  will  remember  that  the 

8  bewilderments  of  the  eyes  are  of  two  kinds,  and  arise 
from  two  causes,  either  from  coming  out  of  the  light  or 
from  going  into  the  light,  which  is  true  of  the  mind's  eye, 
quite  as  much  as  of  the  bodily  eye  ;  and  he  who  remembers 
this  when  he  sees  the  soul  of  any  one  whose  vision  is  perplexed 
and  weak,  will  not  be  too  ready  to  laugh ;  he  will  first  ask 
whether  that  soul  has  come  out  of  the  brighter  life,  and  is  un- 
able to  see  because  unaccustomed  to  the  dark;   or   having 


THE   REPUBLIC  323 

turned  from  darkness  to  the  day  is  dazzled  by  excess  of  light. 
And  then  he  will  count  the  one  happy  in  his  condition  and 
state  of  being,  and  he  will  pity  the  other;  or,  if  he  have  a 
mind  to  laugh  at  the  soul  which  comes  from  below  into  the 
light,  there  will  be  more  reason  in  this  than  in  the  laugh 
which  greets  the  other  from  the  den. 

That,  he  said,  is  a  very  just  remark. 

But  if  this  is  true,  then  certain  professors  of  education 
must  be  mistaken  in  saying  that  they  can  put  a  knowledge 
into  the  soul  which  was  not  there  before,  like  giving  eyes  to 
the  blind. 

Yes,  that  is  what  they  say,  he  replied. 

Whereas,  I  said,  our  argument  shows  that  the  power  is 
already  in  the  soul ;  and  that  as  the  eye  cannot  turn  from 
darkness  to  light  without  the  whole  body,  so  too,  when  the 
eye  of  the  soul  is  turned  round,  the  whole  soul  must  be  turned 
from  the  world  of  generation  into  that  of  being,  and  become 
able  to  endure  the  sight  of  being,  and  of  the  brightest  and 
best  of  being — that  is  to  say,  of  the  good. 

Very  true. 

And  this  is  conversion  ;  and  the  art  will  be  how  to  accom- 
plish this  as  easily  and  completely  as  possible  ;  not  implant- 
ing eyes,  for  they  exist  already,  but  giving  them  a  right  direc- 
tion, which  they  have  not. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  may  be  assumed. 

And  hence  while  the  other  qualities  seem  to  be  akin  to  the 
body,  being  infused  by  habit  and  exercise  and  not  originally 
innate,  the  virtue  of  wisdom  is  part  of  a  divine  essence,  and 
has  a  power  which  is  everlasting,  and  by  this  conversion  is 
rendered  useful  and  profitable,  and  is  also  capable  of  becoming 
hurtful  and  useless.  Did  you  never  observe  the  narrow 
intelligence  flashing  from  the  keen  eye  of  a  clever  rogue 
— how  eager  he  is,  how  clearly  his  paltry  soul  sees  the  way  to 
his  end  ;  he  is  the  reverse  of  blind,  but  his  keen  eyesight  is 
taken  into  the  service  of  evil,  and  he  is  dangerous  in  propor- 
tion to  his  intelligence  ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

But  what  if  there  had  been  a  circumcision  of  such  natures  in 
the  days  of  their  youth  ;  and  they  had  been  severed  from  the 
leaden  weights,  as  I  may  call  them,  with  which  they  are  born 
into  the  world,  which  hang  on  to  sensual  pleasures,  such  as 


324  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

those  of  eating  and  drinking,  and  drag  them  down  and  turn 
the  vision  of  their  souls  about  the  things  that  are  below, — if,I 
say,  they  had  been  released  from  them  and  turned  round  to  the 
truth,  the  very  same  faculty  in  these  very  same  persons  would 
have  seen  the  other  as  keenly  as  they  now  see  that  on  which 
their  eye  is  fixed. 

That  is  very  likely. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  and  there  is  another  thing  which  is  likely,  or 
rather  a  necessary  inference  from  what  has  preceded,  that 
neither  the  uneducated  and  uninformed  of  the  truth,  nor  yet 
those  who  never  make  an  end  of  their  education,  will  be  able 
ministers  of  State  :  not  the  former,  because  they  have  no  sin- 
gle aim  of  duty  which  is  the  rule  of  their  actions,  private  as 
well  as  public  ;  nor  the  latter,,  because  they  will  not  act  at  all 
except  upon  compulsion,  fancying  that  they  are  already  in  the 
islands  of  the  blest. 

Very  true,  he  replied. 

Then,  I  said,  the  business  of  us  who  are  the  founders  of  the 
State  will  be  to  compel  the  best  minds  to  attain  that  knowl- 
edge which  has  been  already  declared  by  us  to  be  the  greatest 
of  all, — to  that  eminence  they  must  ascend  and  arrive  at  the 
good,  and  when  they  have  ascended  and  seen  enough  we 
must  not  allow  them  to  do  as  they  do  now. 

What  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  that  they  remain  in  the  upper  world  :  but  this  must 
not  be  allowed  ;  they  must  be  made  to  descend  again  among 
the  prisoners  in  the  den,  and  partake  of  their  labors  and 
honors,  whether  they  are  worth  having  or  not.1 

But  is  not  this  unjust  ?  he  said  ;  ought  we  to  give  them  an 
inferior  life,  when  they  might  have  a  superior  one  ? 

You  have  again  forgotten,  my  friend,  I  said,  the  intention 
of  the  legislator  ;  he  did  not  aim  at  making  any  one  class  in 
the  State  happy  above  the  rest ;  the  happiness  was  to  be  in 
the  whole  State,  and  he  held  the  citizens  together 
by  persuasion  and  necessity,  making  them  benefactors 
of  the  State,  and  therefore  benefactors  of  one  another  ;  to 
this  end  he  created  them,  not  that  they  should  please  them- 

1  On  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration  (Luke  ix.  33)  Peter  said,  "  Master,  it  is 
good  for  us  to  be  here  :  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles,"  Luke  adds  the 
phrase — "  not  knowing  what  he  said."  Christ  made  no  reply  in  words,  but 
presently  led  them  back  to  work  and  to  die  for  the  saving  of  the  world. 


THE   REPUBLIC  325 

selves,  but  they  were  to  be  his  instruments  in  binding  up  the 
State. 

True,  he  said,  I  had  forgotten  that. 

Observe  then,  I  said,  Glaucon,  that  there  will  be  no  in- 
justice in  compelling  our  philosophers  to  have  a  care  and 
providence  of  others  ;  we  shall  explain  to  them  that  in  other 
States,  men  of  their  class  are  not  obliged  to  share  in  the  toils 
of  politics  :  and  this  is  reasonable,  for  they  grow  up  at  their 
own  sweet  will,  and  the  government  would  rather  not  have 
them.  Now  the  wild  plant  which  owes  culture  to  nobody, 
has  nothing  to  pay  for  culture  ;  but  we  have  brought  you  into 
the  world  expressly  for  this  end,  that  you  may  be  rulers  of  the 
hive,  kings  of  yourselves  and  of  the  other  citizens.  And  you 
have  been  educated  far  better  and  more  perfectly  than  they 
have,  and  are  better  able  to  share  in  the  double  duty.  And 
therefore  each  of  you,  when  his  turn  comes,  must  go  down  to 
the  general  underground  abode,  and  get  the  habit  of  seeing  in 
the  dark  ;  for  all  is  habit ;  and  when  you  are  accustomed  you 
will  see  ten  thousand  times  better  than  those  in  the  den,  and 
you  will  know  what  the  images  are,  and  of  what  they  are  im- 
ages, because  you  have  seen  the  beautiful  and  just  and  good 
in  their  truth.  And  thus  the  order  of  our  State  will  be  a  wak- 
ing reality,  and  not  a  dream,  as  is  commonly  the  manner  of 
States  ;  in  most  of  them  men  are  fighting  with  one  another 
about  shadows  and  are  distracted  in  the  struggle  for  power, 
which  in  their  eyes  is  a  great  good.  But  the  truth  is,  that  the 
State  in  which  the  rulers  are  most  reluctant  to  govern  is  best 
and  most  quietly  governed,  and  that  in  which  they  are  most 
willing,  the  worst. 

Quite  true,  he  replied. 

And  will  our  pupils,  when  they  hear  this,  refuse  to  share  in 
turn  the  toils  of  State,  when  they  are  allowed  to  spend  the 
greater  part  of  their  time  with  one  another  in  the  heaven  of 
ideas  ? 

Impossible,  he  answered  ;  for  they  are  just  men,  and  the 
commands  which  we  impose  upon  them  are  just ;  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  every  one  of  them  will  take  office  as  a  stern  ne- 
cessity and  not  like  our  present  ministers  of  State. 

Yes,  my  friend,  I  said  ;  and  that  is  just  the  truth  of 
the  case.      If  you    contrive   for  your   future  rulers  another 
and  a  better   life    than  that  of  a  ruler,  then  you  may  have 


326  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

a  well-ordered  State ;  for  only  in  the  State  which  offers 
this  will  they  rule  who  are  truly  rich,  not  in  silver  and  gold, 
but  in  virtue  and  wisdom,  which  are  the  true  blessings  of  life. 
Whereas  if  they  go  to  the  administration  of  public  affairs,  poor 
and  hungering  after  their  own  private  advantage,  thinking  that 
hence  they  are  to  snatch  the  good  of  life,  order  there  can 
never  be ;  for  they  will  be  fighting  about  office,  and  the  civil 
and  domestic  broils  which  thus  arise  will  be  the  ruin  of  the 
rulers  themselves  and  of  the  whole  State. 

Most  true,  he  replied. 

And  the  only  life  which  looks  down  upon  the  life  of  political 
ambition  is  that  of  true  philosophy?  Do  you  know  of  any  other? 

No,  indeed,  he  said. 

And  those  who  govern  ought  not  to  be  lovers  of  the  task  ? 

If  they  are  there  will  be  rival  lovers,  and  they  will  fight. 

No  question. 

Whom  then  would  you  choose  rather  than  those  who  are 
wisest  about  affairs  of  State,  and  who  at  the  same  time  have 
other  honors  and  another  and  a  better  life? 

They  are  the  men,  and  I  will  choose  them,  he  replied. 

Would  you  like  us  then  to  consider  in  what  way  such  guar- 
dians may  be  called  into  existence,  and  how  they  are  to  be 
brought  from  darkness  to  light, — as  some  are  said  to  have  as- 
cended from  the  world  below  to  the  gods  ? 

Certainly  I  should,  he  replied. 

The  process,  I  said,  is  not  the  spinning  round  of  an  oyster- 
shell,2  but  the  conversion  of  a  soul  out  of  night-like  day  to  the 
real  ascent  of  true  being,  which  is  true  philosophy.  Now 
what  sort  of  knowledge  has  the  power  of  effecting  this  ?  that 
is  a  question  which  has  to  be  considered. 

Certainly. 

Then  what  sort  of  knowledge  is  there  which  would  draw 
the  soul  from  becoming  to  being  ?  At  the  same  time  there  is 
another  thing  which  occurs  to  me.  You  will  remember  that 
our  young  men  are  to  be  warrior  athletes  ? 

Yes,  that  was  said. 

Then  this  new  kind  of  knowledge  must  have  another 
quality  ? 

2  In  allusion  to  "  a  game  in  which  a  shell  black  on  one  side  and  white  on 
the  other  was  thrown  on  a  line  and  according  as  the  black  or  white  turned 
up  one  party  was  obliged  to  fly  and  the  other  pursued."     (L.  and  S.) 


THE   REPUBLIC  327 

What  quality  ? 

Usefulness  in  war. 

Yes,  if  possible. 

There  were  two  parts  in  our  former  scheme  of  education, 
were  there  not  ? 

True. 

There  was  gymnastic  which  presided  over  the  growth  and 
decay  of  the  body,  and  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  having 
to  do  with  generation  and  corruption  ? 

True. 

Then  that  is  not  the  knowledge  which  we  are  seeking 
to  discover  ? 

No. 

But  what  do  you  say  of  music,  as  far  as  that  entered  into 
our  scheme  ? 

That,  he  said,  as  you  will  remember,  was  the  counterpart 
of  gymnastic,  and  trained  the  guardians  by  the  influences  of 
habit,  giving  them,  not  science,  but  a  sort  of  harmonical 
composition,  and  a  kind  of  rhythmical  movement  j  and  the 
words,  whether  true  or  false,  had  kindred  elements  of  rhythm 
and  harmony  in  them  ;  but  musical  knowledge  was  not  of  a 
kind  which  tended  to  that  good  which  you  are  now  seeking. 

You  are  most  accurate,  I  said,  in  your  recollection ;  for 
there  certainly  was  nothing  of  that  kind  in  our  previous  edu- 
cation. But  then  what  branch  of  knowledge  is  there,  my 
dear  friend,  which  is  of  the  desired  nature?  For  the  useful 
arts  were  rejected  by  us  as  mean. 

Undoubtedly ;  and  yet  if  music  and  gymnastic  are  ex- 
cluded, and  the  arts  are  also  excluded,  what  remains? 

Well,  I  said,  there  may  be  nothing  left ;  and  then  we  shall 
have  to  take  something  which  is  of  universal  application. 

What  is  that  ? 

A  something  which  all  arts  and  sciences  and  intelligences 
use  in  common,  and  which  every  one  ought  to  learn  among 
the  elements  of  education. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  little  matter  of  distinguishing  one,  two,  and  three, 
which  I  may  sum  up  under  the  name  of  number  and  calcula- 
tion,— of  that  all  arts  and  sciences  are  necessarily  partakers. 

Very  true. 

Then  the  art  of  war  partakes  of  them  ? 


328  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

To  be  sure. 

Then  Palamedes,3  when  he  appears  in  the  play,  proves  Aga- 
memnon4 ridiculously  unfit  to  be  a  general.  Did  you  never 
remark  how  he  declares  that  he  had  invented  number,  and  had 
numbered  and  set  in  array  the  ranks  of  the  army  at  Troy  ; 
which  implies  that  they  had  never  been  numbered  before,  and 
Agamemnon  must  be  supposed  literally  to  have  been  incapable 
of  counting  his  own  feet — how  could  he,  if  he  was  ignorant  of 
number?  And  if  that  is  true,  what  sort  of  a  general  must  he 
have  been  ? 

I  should  say  a  very  strange  one,  certainly. 

Must  not  a  warrior  then,  I  said,  in  addition  to  his  military 
skill,  have  a  knowledge  of  arithmetic  ? 

Certainly  he  must,  if  he  is  to  have  the  slightest  knowledge 
of  military  tactics,  or  indeed,  I  should  rather  say,  if  he  is  to 
be  a  man  at  all. 

I  should  like  to  know  whether  you  have  the  same  notion 
which  I  have  of  this  study  ? 

What  is  that  ? 

I  am  of  opinion  that  this  is  a  study  of  the  kind  which  we 
are  seeking,  and  which  leads  naturally  to  reflection, 
523=  but  one  which  has  never  been  rightly  used  as  simply 
conducting  towards  being. 

Will  you  explain  your  meaning?  he  said. 

I  will  try,  I  said ;  and  I  wish  you  would  consider  and  help 
me,  and  say  "  yes"  or  "  no  "  when  I  attempt  to  distinguish 
in  my  own  mind  what  branches  of  knowledge  have  this  con- 
ducting power,  in  order  that  we  may  have  clearer  proof  that 
this  is  one  of  them. 

[Some  objects  we  seem  able  to  know  sufficiently  with  the 
senses  alone.  Others  demand  further  investigation.  In  mak- 
ing this  investigation  we  find  it  profitable  to  count  and  calcu- 
late. But  besides  this  practical  value,  M  arithmetic  has  a  very 
great  and  elevating  effect,  compelling  the  soul  to  reason  about 
abstract  number,  and  if  visible  or  tangible  objects  are  obtrud- 
ing upon  the  argument,  refusing  to  be  satisfied."] 

That  is  very  true. 

Now,  suppose  a  person  were  to  say  to  the  arithmeticians  : 

*  See  Apology,  note  55.  *  See  Apology,  note  21. 


THE    REPUBLIC  329 

O  my  friends,  what  are  these  wonderful  numbers  about  which 
you  are  reasoning,  in  which,  as  you  say,  there  is  a  unity  such 
as  you  require,  and  each  unit  is  equal,  invariable,  indi-  , 
visible,  what  would  they  answer  ? 

They  would  answer,  as  I  suppose,  that  they  are  speaking  of 
those  numbers  which  are  only  realized  in  thought. 

Then  you  see  that  this  knowledge  may  be  truly  called  neces- 
sary, as  necessitating  the  use  of  the  pure  intelligence  in  the 
attainment  of  pure  truth  ? 

Yes  ;  that  is  a  marked  characteristic. 

And  have  you  further  remarked  that  those  who  have  a  nat- 
ural talent  for  calculation  are  generally  quick  at  every  other 
kind  of  knowledge ;  and  even  the  dull,  if  they  have  had  an 
arithmetical  training,  gain  in  quickness,  if  not  in  any  other  way? 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

And  indeed,  you  will  not  easily  find  a  more  difficult  study, 
and  not  many  as  difficult. 

You  will  not. 

And,  for  all  these  reasons,  arithmetic  must  not  be  given  up  ; 
and  this  is  a  kind  of  knowledge  in  which  the  best  natures 
should  be  trained. 

I  agree. 

Let  this  then  be  made  one  of  our  subjects  of  education. 
And  next,  shall  we  inquire  whether  the  kindred  science  also 
concerns  us  ? 

You  mean  geometry  ? 

Yes. 

Certainly,  he  said  ;  that  part  of  geometry  which  relates  to 
war  is  clearly  our  concern  j  for  in  pitching  a  camp,  or  taking 
up  a  position,  or  closing  or  extending  the  lines  of  an  army,  or 
any  other  military  manoeuvre,  whether  in  actual  battle  or  on  a 
march,  there  will  be  a  great  difference  in  a  general,  according 
as  he  is  or  is  not  a  geometrician. 

Yes,  I  said,  but  for  that  purpose  a  very  little  of  either  geom- 
etry or  calculation  will  be  enough ;  the  question  is  rather  of 
the  higher  and  greater  part  of  geometry,  whether  that  tends 
towards  the  great  end — I  mean  towards  the  vision  of  the  idea  of 
good  ;  and  thither,  as  I  was  saying,  all  things  tend  which  com- 
pel the  soul  to  turn  her  gaze  towards  that  place,  where  is  the 
full  perfection  of  being,  of  which  she  ought,  by  all  means,  to 
attain  the  vision. 


330  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

True,  he  said. 

Then  if  geometry  compels  us  to  view  essence,  it  concerns 
us ;  if  generation  only,  it  does  not  concern  us  ? 

Yes,  that  is  what  we  assert. 

Yet,  at  present,  I  said,  the  science  is  in  flat  contradiction 

to  the  language  which  geometricians  use,  as  will  hardly  be 

denied  by  those  who  have  any  acquaintance  with  their 

7  study ;  for  they  speak  of  finding  the  side  of  a  square, 
and  applying  and  adding  as  though  they  were  doing  something 
and  had  a  practical  end  in  view;  their  "  necessity"  is  the 
necessity  to  get  a  living,  which  is  ridiculous  ;  whereas  knowl- 
edge is  the  real  object  of  the  whole  science. 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Then  must  not  a  further  admission  be  made  ? 

What  admission  ? 

The  admission  that  this  knowledge  at  which  geometry  aims 
is  of  the  eternal,  and  not  of  the  perishing  and  transient. 

That,  he  replied,  may  be  readily  allowed,  and  is  true. 

Then,  my  noble  friend,  geometry  will  draw  the  soul  towards 
truth,  and  create  the  mind  of  philosophy,  and  raise  up  that 
which  is  now  unhappily  allowed  to  fall  down. 

Nothing  will  be  more  effectual. 

Then  nothing  should  be  more  effectually  enacted,  than  that 
the  inhabitants  of  your  fair  city  should  learn  goemetry.  More- 
over the  science  has  indirect  effects,  which  are  not  small. 

Of  what  kind  are  they  ?  he  said. 

There  are  the  military  advantages  of  which  you  spoke,  I 
said ;  and  in  all  departments  of  study,  as  experience  proves, 
any  one  who  has  studied  geometry  is  infinitely  quicker  of  ap- 
prehension. 

Yes,  he  said,  the  difference  between  a  geometrician  and  one 
who  is  not  a  geometrician  is  very  great  indeed. 

Then  shall  we  propose  this  as  a  second  branch  of  knowledge 
which  our  youth  will  study  ? 

Let  us  make  the  proposal,  he  replied. 

And  suppose  we  make  astronomy  the  third, — what  do  you 
say? 

I  am  strongly  inclined  to  that,  he  said  ;  the  observation  of 
the  seasons  and  of  months  and  years  is  quite  essential  to  hus- 
bandry and  navigation,  and  not  less  essential  to  military  tactics. 

i  am  amused,  I  said,  at  your  fear  of  the  world,  which  makes 


THE   REPUBLIC  331 

you  guard  against  the  appearance  of  insisting  upon  useless 
studies  ;  and  I  quite  admit  the  difficulty  of  convincing  men 
that  in  every  soul  there  is  an  organ  which  is  purified  and  il- 
lumined by  these  studies,  when  by  other  pursuits  lost  and 
dimmed  ;  and  this  eye  of  the  soul  is  more  precious  far  than 
ten  thousand  bodily  ones,  for  this  alone  beholds  the  vision  of 
truth.  Now  there  are  two  classes  of  persons  :  one  class  who 
will  agree  in  this  and  will  take  your  words  as  a  revelation  ; 
another  class  who  have  no  perception  of  the  thing  meant,  to 
whom  they  will  naturally  seem  to  be  idle  and  unprofit-  ~ 
able  tales.  And  you  had  better  decide  at  once  with 
which  of  the  two  you  are  arguing,  or  whether  without  regard 
to  either  you  would  not  prefer  to  carry  on  the  argument  chiefly 
for  your  own  sake  j  not  that  you  have  any  jealousy  of  others, 
who  may  benefit  if  they  please. 

I  think  that  I  should  prefer  to  carry  on  the  argument  on  my 
own  behalf. 

Then  take  a  step  backward,  for  we  have  gone  wrong  in  the 
order  of  the  sciences. 

What  was  the  mistake?  he  said. 

After  plane  geometry,  I  said,  we  took  solids  in  revolution, 
instead  of  taking  solids  in  themselves  ;  whereas  after  the  sec- 
ond dimension  the  third,  which  is  concerned  with  cubes  and 
dimensions  of  depth,  ought  to  have  followed. 

That  is  true,  Socrates  ;  but  these  subjects  seem  to  be  as  yet 
hardly  explored. 

Why,  yes,  I  said,  and  for  two  reasons :  in  the  first  place, 
no  government  patronizes  them,  which  leads  to  a  want  of  en- 
ergy in  the  study  of  them,  and  they  are  difficult ;  in  the  second 
place,  students  cannot  learn  them  unless  they  have  a  teacher. 
But  then  a  teacher  is  hardly  to  be  found,  and  even  if  one  could 
be  found,  as  matters  now  stand,  the  students  of  these  subjects, 
who  are  very  conceited,  would  not  mind  him.  That,  however, 
would  be  otherwise  if  the  whole  State  patronized  and  honored 
them  ;  then  they  would  listen,  and  there  would  be  continuous 
and  earnest  search,  and  discoveries  would  be  made ;  since  even 
now,  disregarded  as  they  are  by  the  world,  and  maimed  of 
their  fair  proportions,  and  although  none  of  their  votaries  can 
tell  the  use  of  them,  still  these  studies  force  their  way  by  their 
natural  charm,  and  very  likely  they  may  emerge  into  light. 

Yes,  he  said,  there  is  a  remarkable  charm  in  them.     But  I 


332  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

do  not  clearly  understand  the  change  in  the  order.  First  you 
began  with  a  geometry  of  plane  surfaces? 

Yes,  I  said. 

And  you  placed  astronomy  next,  and  then  you  made  a  step 
backward  ? 

Yes,  I  said,  the  more  haste  the  less  speed ;  the  ludicrous 
state  of  solid  geometry  made  me  pass  over  this  branch  and  go 
on  to  astronomy,  or  motion  of  solids. 

True,  he  said. 

Then  regarding  the  science  now  omitted  as  supplied,  if  only 
encouraged  by  the  State,  let  us  go  on  to  astronomy. 

That  is  the  natural  order,  he  said.     And  now,  Socrates,  as 

you  rebuked  the  vulgar  manner  in  which  I  praised  astronomy 

before,  my  praises  shall  accord  with  the  method  of  your 

52^"  inquiry.     For  every  one,  as  I  think,  must  feel  that  as- 

tronomy  compels  the  soul  to  look  upwards,  and  leads  us 

from  this  world  to  another. 

I  am  an  exception  then,  for  I  should  rather  say  that  those 
who  elevate  astronomy  into  philosophy  make  us  look  down- 
wards and  not  upwards. 

Why,  how  is  that  ?  he  asked. 

You,  I  replied,  have  evidently  a  sublime  conception  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  things  above.  And  I  dare  say  that  if  a  per- 
son were  to  throw  his  head  back  and  study  the  fretted  ceiling, 
you  would  still  think  that  his  mind  was  the  percipient,  and  not 
his  eyes.  And  you  are  very  likely  right,  and  I  may  be  a  sim- 
pleton :  for,  in  my  opinion,  only  that  knowledge  which  is  of 
being  and  the  unseen  can  make  the  soul  look  upwards,  and 
whether  a  man  gapes  at  the  heavens  or  blinks  on  the  ground, 
seeking  to  learn  some  particular  of  sense,  I  would  deny  that 
he  can  learn,  for  nothing  of  that  sort  is  matter  of  science ;  his 
soul  is  looking,  not  upwards,  but  downwards,  whether  his 
way  to  knowledge  is  by  water  or  by  land,  and  he  may  float  on 
his  back  in  either  element. 

I  acknowledge,  he  said,  the  justice  of  your  rebuke.  Still,  I 
should  like  to  know  how  astronomy  can  be  learned  in  any 
other  way  more  conducive  to  that  knowledge  of  which  we 
speak  ? 

[The  true  object  of  astronomy  is  not  the  starry  heavens, 
beautiful   as   they   are   to   the  eyes,   but   the   laws   of  pure 


THE   REPUBLIC  333 

motion.  And  astronomy  must  be  pursued  as  an  abstract 
science  if  "it  is  to  become  a  real  part  of  education,  im- 
proving the  natural  use  of  reason."  In  like  manner  the  true 
science  of  harmony  does  not  concern  itself  with  sounds  and 
consonances  that  appear  to  the  ear,  nor  even  with  the  numeri- 
cal relations  between  such  sounds,  but  with  the  "  natural  har- 
monies of  number. ' '  Such  study  seems  to  some  a  thing  of 
"  more  than  mortal  knowledge  "  but  it  is  in  the  highest  de- 
gree useful,  "  if  pursued  with  a  view  to  the  beautiful  and 
good. ' '     Socrates  continues  :  ] 

Now,  when  all  these  studies  reach  the  point  of  intercom- 
munion and  connection  with  one  another,  and  come  to  be 
considered  in  their  mutual  affinities,  then,  I  think,  but  not  till 
then,  will  the  pursuit  of  them  have  a  value  for  our  objects; 
otherwise  they  are  useless. 

That,  Socrates,  is  also  my  own  notion  ;  but  it  is  a  vast  work 
of  which  you  speak. 

[Socrates  says:  The  science  for  which  pure  arithmetic, 
geometry,  astronomy,  and  harmony  prepare  the  way  is  dialec- 
tic. Those  sciences  only  prepare  the  way  and  do  not  them- 
selves attain  to  the  highest  truth ;  but  no  one  can  understand 
dialectic  who  has  not  been  prepared  by  the  proper  study  of  the 
preliminary  sciences.  The  bodily  eye,  according  to  the  story 
of  the  den,  rose  from  seeing  shadows  to  seeing  images,  and 
then  objects,  and  lastly  the  sun.] 

In  like  manner,  when  a  person  begins  dialectics,  and  starts 
on  the  discovery  of  the  absolute  by  the  light  of  reason  only, 
and  without  any  assistance  of  sense,  and  does  not  rest  until  by 
pure  intelligence  he  attains  pure  good,  he  finds  himself  at  the 
end  of  the  intellectual  world,  as  in  the  other  case  at  the  end 
of  the  visible. 

[As  in  Book  VI.,  it  is  shown  that  there  are  four  degrees  of 
knowledge:  (i)  "  The  knowledge  of  shadows ;  "  (2)  "belief," 
or  the  perception  of  objects;  (3)  "understanding,"  or  the 
knowledge  of  the  abstract  sciences,  such  as  arithmetic,  geometry, 
etc.  j  (4)  "science,"  or  "  reason,"  which  alone,  by  dialectic, 
arrives  at  the  absolute  truth.     If  dialectic  is  thus  the  "coping- 


334  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

stone  of  the  sciences,"  then  surely  the  children  of  the  State 
who  are  to  be  its  future  rulers  should  be  led  to  the  acquisition 
of  this  science.     Socrates  now  asks  :  ] 

But  to  whom  are  we  to  assign  these  studies,  and  in  what 
way  are  they  to  be  assigned  ? — that  is  a  question  which 
535    remains  to  be  considered. 

Yes,  plainly. 

You  remember,  I  said,  how  the  rulers  were  chosen  before  ? 

Certainly,  he  said. 

The  same  natures  must  still  be  chosen,  and  the  preference 
again  given  to  the  surest  and  the  bravest,  and,  if  possible,  to 
the  fairest;  and,  having  noble  and  manly  tempers,  they 
should  also  have  the  natural  gifts  which  accord  with  their 
education. 

And  what  are  they  ? 

Such  gifts  as  keenness  and  ready  powers  of  acquisition  ;  for 
the  mind  more  often  faints  from  the  severity  of  study  than 
from  the  severity  of  gymnastics  :  the  toil  is  more  entirely  the 
mind's  own,  and  is  not  shared  with  the  body. 

Very  true,  he  replied. 

Further,  he  of  whom  we  are  in  search  should  have  a  good 
memory,  and  be  an  unwearied,  solid  man,  who  is  a  lover  of 
labor  in  any  line,  or  he  will  never  be  able  to  undergo  the 
double  toil  and  trouble  of  body  and  mind. 

Certainly,  he  said  j  a  man  must  have  some  natural  gifts. 

The  mistake  at  present  is,  I  said,  that  those  who  study  phi- 
losophy have  no  vocation,  and  this,  as  I  was  before  saying,  is 
the  reason  why  she  has  fallen  into  disrepute  :  her  true  sons 
should  study  her  and  not  bastards. 

How  do  you  mean  ? 

In  the  first  place,  her  votary  should  not  have  a  lame  or  one 
legged  industry.  I  mean,  that  he  should  not  be  half  industri- 
ous and  half  idle  :  as,  for  example,  when  a  man  is  a  lover  of 
gymnastic  and  hunting,  and  all  other  bodily  exercises,  but  a 
hater  rather  than  a  lover  of  the  labor  of  learning  or  hearing  or 
inquiry.  Or  a  man  may  be  lame  in  another  way,  and  the  love 
of  labor  may  take  an  opposite  form. 

That  is  quite  true,  he  said. 

And  as  to  truth,  I  said,  is  not  a  soul  to  be  deemed  halt  and 
lame  who  hates  voluntary  falsehood  and  is  extremely  indig- 


THE   REPUBLIC  335 

nant  at  himself  and  others  when  they  tell  lies,  and  yet  receives 
involuntary  falsehood,  and  does  not  mind  wallowing  like  a 
swinish  beast  in  the  mire  of  ignorance,  and  has  no  shame  at 
being  detected  ? 

Most  certainly,  he  said. 

And,  again,  as  to  temperance  and  courage  and  magnanimity, 
and  every  other  virtue,  should  they  not  observe  the  ways  of 
the  true  son  and  of  the  bastard  ?  for  wherever  States  and  , 
individuals  have  no  eye  for  this  sort  of  qualities,  they 
unconsciously  make  a  friend  or  perhaps  a  ruler  of  one  who  is 
in  a  figure  a  lame  man  or  a  bastard,  from  a  defect  in  some  one 
of  these  qualities. 

That  is  very  true,  he  said. 

All  these  things,  then,  will  have  to  be  carefully  considered, 
and  those  whom  we  introduce  to  this  vast  system  of  education 
and  training  must  be  sound  in  limb  and  mind,  and  then  jus- 
tice herself  will  have  nothing  to  say  against  us,  and  we  shall 
be  the  saviours  of  the  State ;  but,  if  our  pupils  are  men  of  an- 
other stamp,  the  reverse  will  happen,  and  we  shall  pour  a  still 
greater  flood  of  ridicule  on  philosophy. 

That  would  be  discreditable. 

Yes,  I  said,  that  is  quite  true;  and  yet,  perhaps,  in  thus 
turning  jest  into  earnest  I  am  equally  ridiculous. 

In  what  respect  ? 

I  had  forgotten,  I  said,  that  we  were  not  in  earnest,  and 
spoke  with  too  much  excitement.  For  when  I  saw  philosophy 
trampled  under  foot  of  men  I  could  not  help  feeling  a  sort  of 
indignation  at  the  authors  of  her  disgrace :  and  my  anger 
made  me  vehement. 

Indeed ;  I  did  not  observe  that  you  were  more  vehement 
than  was  right. 

But  I  felt  that  I  was.  And  now  let  me  remind  you  that, 
although  in  our  former  selection  we  chose  old  men,  that  will 
not  do  in  this.  Solon  was  under  a  delusion  when  he  said  that 
a  man  as  he  is  growing  older  may  learn  many  things, — for  he 
can  no  more  learn  than  he  can  run ;  youth  is  the  time  of  toil. 

That  is  certainly  true. 

And,  therefore,  calculation  and  geometry,  and  all  the  other 
elements  of  instruction,  which  are  a  preparation  for  dialectic, 
should  be  presented  to  the  mind  in  childhood ;  not,  however, 
under  any  notion  of  forcing  them. 


336  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Why  not  ? 

Because  a  freeman  ought  to  be  a  freeman  in  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge.  Bodily  exercise,  when  compulsory,  does  no 
harm  j  but  knowledge  which  is  acquired  under  compulsion  has 
no  hold  on  the  mind. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Then,  my  good  friend,  I  said,  do  not  use  compulsion,  but 
let  early  education  be  a  sort  of  amusement ;  that  will 
5         better  enable  you  to  find  out  the  natural  bent. 

There  is  reason  in  that,  he  said. 

Do  you  remember  our  saying  that  the  children,  too,  must 
be  taken  to  see  the  battle  on  horseback ;  and  if  there  were  no 
danger  they  might  be  led  close  up,  and,  like  young  hounds, 
have  a  taste  of  blood  given  them  ? 

Yes,  I  remember. 

Now  that  may  be  practiced,  I  said,  in  other  things — labors, 
lessons,  dangers — and  he  who  appears  to  be  most  ready  ought 
to  be  enrolled  in  a  select  number. 

At  what  age  ? 

At  the  age  when  the  necessary  gymnastics  are  over  :  the  pe- 
riod whether  of  two  or  three  years  which  passes  in  this  sort  of 
training  is  useless  for  any  other  purpose ;  for  sleep  and  exer- 
cise are  unpropitious  to  learning  :  and  the  trial  of  who  is  first 
in  gymnastic  exercises  is  one  of  the  most  important  tests  to 
which  they  are  subjected. 

Certainly,  he  repljed. 

After  that  time  those  who  are  selected  from  the  class  of 
twenty  years  old  will  be  promoted  to  higher  honor,  and  the 
sciences  which  they  learned  without  any  order  in  their  early 
education  will  now  be  brought  together,  and  they  will  be  able 
to  see  the  correlation  of  them  to  one  another  and  to  true  be- 
ing. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  only  kind  of  knowledge  which  is 
everlasting. 

Yes,  I  said ;  and  the  capacity  for  such  knowledge  is  the 
great  criterion  of  dialectical  talent :  the  speculative  or  com- 
prehensive mind  is  always  the  dialectical. 

I  agree  in  that,  he  said. 

These,  I  said,  are  the  points  which  you  must  consider  ;  and 
those  who  have  most  of  this  comprehension,  and  who  are  most 
steadfast  in  their  learning,  and  in  their  military,  and  generally 


THE   REPUBLIC  337 

in  their  public  duties,  when  they  arrive  at  the  age  of  thirty 
will  have  to  be  chosen  by  you  out  of  the  select  class,  and  ele- 
vated to  higher  honor ;  and  you  will  have  to  prove  them  by 
the  help  of  dialectic,  in  order  to  learn  which  of  them  is  able 
to  give  up  the  use  of  sight  and  other  senses,  and  in  company 
with  truth  to  attain  absolute  being.  And  here,  my  friend, 
great  caution  is  required. 

Why  great  caution  ? 

Do  you  not  remark,  I  said,  how  great  the  evil  is  which  dia- 
lectic has  introduced  ? 

What  is  that  ?  he  said. 

The  lawlessness  of  which  the  professors  of  the  art 5  are  full. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

Do  you  think  that  there  is  anything  unnatural  in  their  case  ? 
or  shall  I  ask  you  to  make  allowance  for  them  ? 

What  sort  of  allowance  ? 

I  want  you,  I  said,  by  way  of  parallel,  to  imagine  a  sup- 
posititious son  who  is  brought  up  in  great  wealth ;  he  is  one  of 
a  large  and  numerous  family,  and  has  many  flatterers.  When 
grown  up  he  learns  that  his  alleged  are  not  his  real  par- 
ents ;  but  who  the  real  ones  are  he  is  unable  to  discover.  5 
Can  you  tell  me  how  he  will  be  likely  to  behave  towards  his 
flatterers  and  his  supposed  parents,  first  of  all  during  the  period 
when  he  was  ignorant  of  the  false  relation,  and  then  again 
when  he  knew  ?     Or  would  you  like  to  hear  my  suspicion  ? 

Very  much. 

I  suspect,  then,  that  while  he  was  ignorant  of  the  truth  he 
would  be  likely  to  honor  his  father  and  his  mother  and  his 
supposed  relations  more  than  the  flatterers  ;  he  would  be  less 
willing  to  see  them  in  want,  or  to  do  any  violence  to  them,  or 
say  anything  evil  of  them,  and  in  important  matters  less  will- 
ing to  disobey  them. 

That  might  be  expected. 

But  when  he  has  made  the  discovery,  I  should  imagine  that 
he  would  diminish  his  honor  and  regard  for  them,  and  would 
become  more  devoted  to  the  flatterers ;  their  influence  over 
him  would  greatly  increase;  he  would  now  live  after  their 
ways,  and  openly  associate  with  them,  and  unless  he  were  of 
an  unusually  good  disposition,  he  would  think  no  more  of  his 
parents  or  other  supposed  friends. 

6  In  reference  to  the  Sophists,  see  General  Introduction,  p.  xxvii. 
22 


338  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Well,  that  is  extremely  probable.  But  how  is  the  image 
applicable  to  the  disciples  of  philosophy  ? 

In  this  way:  you  know  that  there  are  certain  principles 
about  justice  and  good,  which  were  taught  us  in  childhood, 
and  under  their  parental  authority  we  have  been  brought  up, 
obeying  and  honoring  them. 

That  is  true. 

And  there  are  also  opposite  maxims  and  habits  of  pleasure 
which  flatter  and  attract  our  soul,  but  they  do  not  influence 
those  who  have  any  sense  of  right,  and  who  continue  to  honor 
the  maxims  of  their  fathers  and  obey  them. 

True. 

Now,  when  a,  man  is  in  this  state,  and  the  questioning  spirit 
asks  what  is  fair  or  honorable,  and  he  answers  as  the  law  di- 
rects, and  then  arguments  come  and  refute  the  word  of  the 
legislator,  and  he  is  driven  into  believing  that  nothing  is  fair 
any  more  than  foul,  or  just  and  good  any  more  than  the  op- 
posite, and  the  same  of  all  his  time-honored  notions,  do  you 
think  that  he  will  still  honor  and  obey  them  ? 

That  is  impossible. 

And  when  he  ceases  to  think  them  honorable  and  natural  as 
heretofore,  and  he  fails  to  discover  the  true,  can  he  be 
539    expected  to  pursue  any  life  other  than  that  which  flatters 
his  desires  ? 

He  cannot. 

And  from  being  an  observer  of  the  law  he  is  converted  into 
a  lawless  person  ? 

Unquestionably. 

Now  all  this  is  very  natural  in  those  who  study  philosophy 
in  this  manner,  and  also,  as  I  was  just  now  saying,  most  ex- 
cusable. 

Yes,  he  said,  and,  as  I  may  add,  pitiable. 

Therefore,  that  your  feelings  may  not  be  moved  to  pity 
about  our  thirty-years-old  citizens,  every  care  must  be  taken 
in  introducing  them  to  dialectic. 

Certainly. 

They  must  not  be  allowed  to  taste  the  dear  delight  too 
early  ;  that  is  one  thing  specially  to  be  avoided  ;  for  young 
men,  as  you  may  have  observed,  when  they  first  get  the  taste  in 
their  mouths,  argue  for  amusement,  and  are  always  contradict- 
ing and  refuting  others  in  imitation  of  those  who  refute  them ; 


THE   REPUBLIC  339 

they  are  like  puppy-dogs,  who  delight  to  tear  and  pull  at  all 
who  come  near  them. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  their  great  delight. 

And  when  they  have  made  many  conquests  and  received 
defeats  at  the  hands  of  many,  they  violently  and  speedily  get 
into  a  way  of  not  believing  anything  that  they  believed  before, 
and  hence,  not  only  they,  but  philosophy  generally,  has  a  bad 
name  with  the  rest  of  the  world. 

That  is  very  true,  he  said. 

But  when  a  man  begins  to  get  older,  he  will  no  longer  be 
guilty  of  that  sort  of  insanity ;  he  will  follow  the  example  of 
the  dialectician  who  is  seeking  for  truth,  and  not  of  the 
eristic,6  who  is  contradicting  for  the  sake  of  amusement ;  and 
the  greater  moderation  of  his  character  will  increase  and  not 
diminish  the  honor  of  the  pursuit. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  did  we  not  make  special  provision  for  this,  when  we 
said  that  the  natures  of  those  to  whom  philosophy  was  to  be 
imparted  were  to  be  orderly  and  steadfast,  not,  as  now,  any 
chance  aspirant  or  intruder? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Suppose,  I  said,  that  the  study  of  philosophy  be  continued 
diligently  and  earnestly  and  exclusively  for  twice  the  number 
of  years  which  were  passed  in  bodily  exercise — will  that  be 
enough  ? 

Would  you  say  six  or  four  years  ?  he  asked. 

Suppose  five  years  to  be  the  time  fixed,  I  replied ;  after 
that  they  must  be  sent  down  into  the  den  and  compelled  to 
hold  any  military  or  other  office  which  young  men  are  quali- 
fied to  hold  :  in  this  way  they  will  get  their  experience  of 
life,  and  there  will  be  an  opportunity  of  trying  whether,  when 
they  are  drawn  all  manner  of  ways  by  temptation,  they  will 
stand  firm  or  stir  at  all. 

And  how  long  is  this  stage  of  their  lives  to  last? 

Fifteen  years,  I  answered ;  and  when  they  have 
reached  fifty  years  of  age,  then  let  those  who  still  survive  and 
have  distinguished  themselves  in  every  deed  and  in  all  knowl- 
edge come  at  last  to  their  consummation  :  the  time  has  now 
arrived  at  which  they  must  raise  the  eye  of  the  soul  to  the 
universal  light  which  lightens  all  things,  and  behold  the  ab- 
•  Eristic  :  one  who  is  fond  of  dispute. 


340  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

solute  good ;  for  that  is  the  pattern  according  to  which  they 
are  to  order  the  State  and  the  lives  of  individuals,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  their  own  lives  also,  making  philosophy  their 
chief  pursuit  j  but,  when  their  turn  comes,  also  toiling  at 
politics  and  ruling  for  the  public  good,  not  as  if  they  were 
doing  some  great  thing,  but  of  necessity  ;  and  when  they 
have  brought  up  others  like  them  and  left  them  in  their  place 
to  be  governors  of  the  State,  then  they  will  depart  to  the 
Islands  of  the  Blest 7  and  dwell  there  ;  and  the  city  will  give 
them  public  memorials  and  sacrifices  and  honor  them,  if  the 
Pythian  oracle  consent,8  as  demigods,  and  at  any  rate  as 
blessed  and  divine. 

You  are  a  statuary,  Socrates,  and  have  made  our  governors 
perfect  in  beauty. 

Yes,  I  said,  Glaucon,  and  our  governesses  too ;  for  you  must 
not  suppose  that  what  I  have  been  saying  applies  to  men  only 
and  not  to  women  as  far* as  their  natures  can  go. 

There  you  are  right,  he  said,  if,  as  we  described,  they  are 
to  have  all  things  in  common  with  the  men. 

Well,  I  said,  and  you  would  agree  (would  you  not  ?)  that 
what  has  been  said  about  the  State  and  the  government  is  not 
a  mere  dream,  and  although  difficult  not  impossible,  but  only 
possible  in  the  way  that  has  been  supposed  ;  that  is  to  say 
when  the  true  philosopher  kings,  one  or  more  of  them,  are 
born  in  a  State,  despising  the  honors  of  this  present  world 
which  they  deem  mean  and  worthless,  above  all  esteeming 
right  and  the  honor  that  springs  from  right,  and  regarding 
justice  as  the  greatest  and  most  necessary  of  all  things,  whose 
ministers  they  are,  and  whose  principles  will  be  extended  by 
them  when  they  set  in  order  their  own  city  ? 

How  will  they  do  that  ?  he  said. 

They  will  begin  by  sending  out  into  the  country  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  who  are  more  than  ten  years  old,  and 
will  take  possession  of  their  children,  who  will  be  unaffected 
by  the  habits  of  their  parents ;  they  will  then  train  them  in 
their  own  habits  and  laws,  that  is  to  say,  in  those  which  we 
have  given  them  :  and  in  this  way  the  State  and  constitution 
of  which  we  were  speaking  will  soonest  and  most  easily  suc- 
ceed, and  the  nation  which  has  such  a  constitution  will  be 
most  benefited. 

7  See  Apology,  note  23.  e  See  Rep.  ,1V.,  427  aud  note  9. 


THE   REPUBLIC  34 1 

Yes,  that  will  be  the  best  way.  And  I  think,  Socrates, 
that  you  have  very  well  described  the  way  in  which  such  a 
constitution  might  come  into  being. 

And  have  we  not  said  enough  of  the  State,  and  of  the  man 
who  corresponds  to  the  State,  for  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
seeing  how  we  shall  describe  him  ? 

There  is  no  difficulty,  he  replied,  and  I  say  with  you, 
enough. 


342  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 


BOOK  VIII 

And  so,  Glaucon,  we  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 

in  the  perfect  State  wives  and  children  are  to  be  in  common ; 

and  education  and  the  arts  of  war  and  peace  are  also  to 

4       be  common,  and  the  best  philosophers  and  the  bravest 

warriors  are  to  be  their  kings  ?  1 

That,  replied  Glaucon,  is  acknowledged. 

Yes,  I  said ;  and  we  have  further  acknowledged  that  the 
governors,  when  appointed  themselves,  would  take  their  sol- 
diers and  place  them  in  houses  such  as  we  were  describing ; 
nor  would  any  one  say  that  anything  which  he  had  was  his 
own — their  houses  were  to  be  common;  and  as  for  their 
property,  you  remember  about  that  ? 

Yes,  I  remember  that  no  one  was  to  have  any  of  the  ordi- 
nary possessions  of  mankind  ;  they  were  to  be  a  sort  of  war- 
rior athletes  and  guardians,  receiving  from  the  other  citizens, 
in  lieu  of  annual  payment,  only  their  maintenance,  and  they 
were  to  take  care  of  themselves  and  of  the  whole  State. 

True,  I  said  ;  and  now  that  this  division  of  our  work  is 
concluded,  let  us  find  the  point  at  which  we  digressed,  that 
we  may  return  into  the  old  path. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  doing  that,  he  replied  ;  you  ap- 
peared then,  as  now,  to  have  finished  the  description  of  the 
State ;  and  you  said  that  such  a  State  was  good,  and  the  man 
was  good  who  answered  to  the  State,  although  you  had  more 
excellent  things  to  relate  both  of  State  and  man.  And 
you  said  further,  that  if  this  was  the  true  form,  then  the 
others  were  false  ;  and  of  the  false  forms,  you  said,  as  I  re- 
member, that  there  were  four  principal  ones,2  and  that  the 
defects  of  them,  and  of  the  individuals  corresponding  to  them, 
were  worth  examining  :  when  we  had  seen  them  all,  and 
finally  agreed  as  to  who  was  the  best  and  who  was  the  worst 
of  them,  we  might  consider,  as  you  said,  whether  the  best 
was  not  also  the  happiest,  and  the  worst  the  most  miserable. 
And  when  I  asked  you  what  the  four  forms  of  government 

1  The  proof  of  these  three  propositions  occupies  Books  V.,  VI.,  and  VII. 

2  For  definition  of  the  five  forms  of  government  see  Introduction  to  Re- 
public, p.  184. 


THE   REPUBLIC  343 

were  of  which  you  spoke,  then  Polemarchus  and  Adeimantus 
put  in  their  word ;  and  you  began  again,  and  have  found 
your  way  to  the  point  at  which  we  have  now  arrived. 

Your  recollection,  I  said,  is  most  exact. 

Then,  like  a  wrestler,  he  replied,  you  must  put  yourself 
again  in  the  same  position  ;  and  let  me  ask  the  same  ques- 
tions, and  do  give  me  the  same  answer  which  you  were  about 
to  give  me  then. 

Yes,  if  I  can,  I  will,  I  said. 

I  shall  particularly  wish  to  hear  what  were  the  four  constitu- 
tions of  which  you  were  speaking. 

That,  I  said,  is  easily  answered  :  the  four  governments  of 
which  I  spoke,  so  far  as  they  have  distinct  names,  are,  first, 
the  Cretan  and  Spartan,3  which  are  generally  applauded  : 
next,  there  is  oligarchy  ;  this  is  not  equally  approved,  and  is 
a  form  of  government  which  has  many  evils  :  thirdly,  de- 
mocracy, which  naturally  follows  oligarchy,  although  differ- 
ent :  and  lastly  comes  tyranny,  great  and  famous,  which  is 
different  from  them  all,  and  is  the  fourth  and  worst  disorder 
of  a  State.  I  do  not  know  of  any  other  constitution  which 
can  be  said  to  have  a  distinct  form,  but  there  are  lordships 
and  principalities  which  are  bought  and  sold,  and  some 
other  intermediate  forms  of  government ;  and  these  non- 
descripts are  found  among  barbarians  oftener  than  among 
Hellenes. 

Yes,  he  replied,  there  are  said  to  be  many  curious  forms  of 
government  among  them. 

Do  you  know,  I  said,  that  governments  vary  as  the  charac- 
ters of  men  vary,  and  that  there  must  be  as  many  of  the  one 
as  there  are  of  the  other  ?  Or  perhaps  you  suppose  that  States 
are  made  of  "  oak  and  rock,"  4  and  not  out  of  the  human 
natures  which  are  in  them,  and  which  turn  the  scale  and  draw 
other  things  after  them  ? 

Nay,  he  said,  the  States  are  as  the  men  are;  they  do  but 
grow  out  of  human  characters. 

Then  if  the  constitutions  of  States  are  five,  the  disposition 
of  individual  minds  will  also  be  five  ? 

*  Crete  :  a  large  island  in  the  ^Egean,  southeast  of  Greece.  Sparta  :  one 
of  the  most  powerful  states  of  Greece,  situated  at  the  southern  extremity. 
The  governments  of  these  states  Plato  regards  as  the  timocratic  form.. 

*  See  Apology,  note  38. 


344  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Certainly. 

Him  who  answers  to  aristocracy  and  whom  we  rightly  call 
just  and  good,  we  have  already  described 5 ;  and  now  we  have 
to  describe  the  inferior  sort  of  natures,  being  the  con- 
tentious  and  ambitious,  who  answer  to  the  Spartan 
polity ;  also  the  oligarchical,  democratical,  and  tyrannical 
man.  Let  us  place  the  most  just  by  the  side  of  the  most  un- 
just, and  then  we  shall  be  able  to  compare  the  relative  happi- 
ness or  unhappiness  of  pure  justice  and  pure  injustice  :  this 
will  complete  the  inquiry.  And  then  we  shall  know  whether 
we  are  to  pursue  injustice,  as  Thrasymachus  advises,  or  justice, 
as  the  present  argument  counsels. 

Certainly,  he  replied,  that  will  be  the  way. 

Suppose,  then,  following  our  old  plan,  which  we  adopted 
as  being  clearer,  of  taking  the  State  first  and  then  proceed- 
ing to  the  individual,  we  begin  with  the  government  of 
honor  (for  I  know  of  no  name  for  such  a  government  other 
than  timocracy,  or  perhaps  timarchy)  ;  and  then  we  will  view 
the  like  character  in  the  individual ;  and,  after  that,  consider 
oligarchy  and  the  oligarchical  man  ;  and  then  again  we  will 
turn  our  attention  to  democracy  and  the  democratical  man  ; 
and  lastly,  we  will  go  and  view  the  city  of  tyranny,  and  there 
take  a  look  into  the  tyrant's  soul,  and  try  to  arrive  at  the  final 
decision. 

That  way  of  viewing  and  judging  of  the  matter  will  be  very 
rational. 

First,  then,  I  said,  let  us  inquire  how  timocracy  (or  the 
government  of  honor)  arises  out  of  aristocracy  (or  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  best).  Cleany,  all  political  changes  originate 
in  divisions  of  the  actual  governing  power  ;  for  a  government 
which  is  united,  however  small,  cannot  be  moved. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

In  what  way,  then,  will  our  city  be  moved,  and  in  what  man- 
ner will  the  two  classes  of  auxiliaries  and  rulers  disagree  among 
themselves  or  with  one  another  ?  Shall  we,  after  the  manner 
of  Homer,  pray  the  Muses  to  tell  us  "how  strife  was  first 
kindled  ?  "  Shall  we  imagine  them,  in  tragic  style,  pretend- 
ing to  be  in  earnest,  playing  with  us  as  with  children  in  solemn 
words  ? 

How  would  they  address  us  ? 

6  The  philosopher. 


THE   REPUBLIC  345 

After  this  manner:  A  city  which  is  thus  constituted  can 
hardly  be  shaken  ;  but,  seeing  that  everything  which  has  a  be- 
ginning has  also  an  end,  even  this  constitution  will  in       . 
time  perish  and  come  to  dissolution. 

[It  is  explained  how  guardians  who  are  good  and  wise  may 
have  children  who  possess  none  of  the  qualities  which  a 
guardian  should  have.  So,  though  the  guardians  appoint  the 
best  of  the  youth  to  be  their  successors,] 

still  they  will  be  unworthy  to  hold  their  father's  places,  and 
when  they  come  into  power  as  guardians,  they  will  soon  be 
found  to  fail  in  taking  care  of  us,  the  Muses,  first  by  undervalu- 
ing music,  and  secondly  gymnastic ;  and  hence  our  young  men 
will  be  less  cultivated.  In  the  succeeding  generation  rulers 
will  be  appointed  who  have  none  of  the  qualities  of  guardians. 
In  order  to  put  to  the  test  the  metal  of  your  different  races, 
which,  like  Hesiod's,  are  of  gold,  and  silver,  and  brass, 
and  iron,6  iron  will  be  mingled  with  silver,  and  brass 
with  gold,  and  hence  there  will  arise  inequality  and  irregular- 
ity, which  always  and  in  all  places  are  causes  of  enmity  and 
war.  Such  is  the  origin  of  strife,  wherever  arising  ;  and  this 
is  the  answer  of  the  Muses  to  us. 

Yes,  he  said,  and  we  may  assume  that  they  answer  truly. 

Why,  yes,  I  said,  of  course  they  answer  truly :  the  Muses 
cannot  do  otherwise. 

And  what  do  the  Muses  say  next  ? 

When  strife  arose,  then  the  two  races  were  drawn  different 
ways  :  the  iron  and  brass  fell  to  acquiring  money  and  land  and 
houses  and  gold  and  silver  ;  but  the  gold  and  silver  races,  hav- 
ing the  true  riches  in  their  own  nature,  inclined  towards  virtue 
and  the  ancient  order  of  things.  There  was  a  battle  between 
them,  and  at  last  they  agreed  to  assign  their  land  and  houses 
to  the  possession  of  individuals  ;  and  they  enslaved  their  friends 
and  maintainers,  whom  they  had  formerly  protected  in  the  con- 
dition of  freemen,  and  made  of  them  subjects  and  servants  ; 
while  they  themselves  were  occupied  with  war  and  the  watch- 
ing of  them. 

That,  he  replied,  will  probably  be  the  origin  of  the  change. 

•  Compare  myth,  close  of  Book  III. 


346  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

And  the  new  government  which  thus  arises  will  be  of  a  form 
intermediate  between  oligarchy  and  aristocracy. 

Very  true. 

And  now,  after  the  change  has  been  made,  what  will  be  their 
way  of  life  ?  Clearly,  the  new  State,  being  in  a  mean  between 
oligarchy  and  the  perfect  State,  will  partly  follow  one  and 
partly  the  other,  and  will  also  have  some  peculiarities. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

In  the  honor  given  to  rulers,  in  the  abstinence  of  the  war- 
rior class  from  agriculture,  handicrafts,  and  other  trades,  in 
the  institution  of  common  meals,  attention  to  gymnastics  and 
military  training — in  all  these  the  citizen  will  resemble  the 
perfect  State. 

True. 

But  in  the  fear  of  admitting  philosophers  to  power,  because 
their  philosophy  is  no  longer  simple  and  earnest,  but  made  up 
of  mixed  elements ;  and  in  turning  from  them  to  passionate 

£  and  simpler  characters,  who  are  by  nature  fitted  for  war 
rather  than  peace  ;  and  in  the  value  which  they  set  upon 
military  stratagems  and  contrivances,  and  in  their  everlasting 
wars — this  State  will  be  for  the  most  part  peculiar. 

Yes. 

Yes,  I  said ;  and  men  of  this  stamp  will  be  covetous  of 
money,  like  those  who  live  in  oligarchies ;  they  will  have  a 
fierce  secret  longing  after  gold  and  silver,  which  they  will 
hoard  in  dark  places,  having  magazines  and  treasures  of  their 
own  for  the  deposit  and  concealment  of  them  ;  also  castles 
which  are  just  nests  for  their  eggs,  and  in  which  they  will  spend 
large  sums  on  their  wives,  or  on  any  others  whom  they  please. 

That  is  most  true,  he  said. 

And  they  are  miserly  because  they  have  no  means  of  openly 
acquiring  the  money  which  they  prize ;  they  will  spend  that 
which  is  another  man's  in  their  lust ;  stealing  their  pleasures 
and  running  away  like  children  from  the  law,  their  father : 
they  have  been  schooled  not  by  gentle  influences  but  by  force  ; 
for  they  have  no  thought  of  the  true  muse  of  reason  and  phi- 
losophy, and  gymnastic  is  preferred  by  them  to  music. 

Undoubtedly,  he  said,  the  form  of  government  which  you 
describe  is  a  mixture  of  good  and  evil. 

Why,  there  is  a  mixture,  I  said ;  but  one  thing,  and  one 
thing  only,  is  predominantly  seen, — the  spirit  of  contention  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  347 

ambition;  and  these  are  due  to  the  prevalence  of  the  passion- 
ate or  spirited  element.7 

Assuredly,  he  said. 

Such  is  the  origin  and  such  the  character  of  this  State,  of 
which  the  outline  only  has  been  given ;  the  more  perfect  exe* 
cution  of  the  sketch  was  not  required,  because  the  outline  is 
enough  to  show  the  type  of  the  most  perfectly  just  and  unjust; 
and  to  go  through  all  the  States  and  all  the  characters  of  men, 
leaving  none  of  them  out,  would  be  an  interminable  labor. 

Very  true,  he  replied. 

Who  answers  to  this  form  of  government — how  did  he 
come  into  being,  and  what  is  he  like  ? 

I  think,  said  Adeimantus,  that  in  the  spirit  of  contention 
which  characterizes  him,  he  is  not  unlike  our  friend  Glaucon. 

Perhaps,  I  said,  he  may  be  like  him  in  that  one  point ;  but 
there  are  other  respects  in  which  he  is  very  different. 

In  what  respects  ? 

He  should  have  more  of  self-assertion  and  be  somewhat  less 
favored  by  the  Muses,  yet  not  other  than  a  lover  of  the  Muses ; 
and  he  should  be  a  good  listener,  but  not  a  speaker.  A  man  of 
this  sort  may  be  imagined  to  be  rough  with  slaves,  not 
like  the  educated  man,  who  is  too  proud  for  that ;  and  he  4 
will  also  be  courteous  to  freemen,  and  remarkably  obedient  to 
authority  ;  he  is  a  lover  of  power  and  a  lover  of  honor  ;  claim- 
ing to  be  a  ruler,  not  because  he  is  a  speaker,  or  on  any  ground 
of  that  sort,  but  because  he  is  a  soldier,  and,  as  a  soldier,  has 
performed  feats  of  arms  :  he  is  also  a  lover  of  gymnastic  exer- 
cises and  of  the  chase. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  character  of  timocracy. 

Such  an  one  will  despise  riches  only  when  he  is  young; 
but  as  he  gets  older  he  will  be  more  and  more  attracted  to 
them,  because  he  has  a  piece  of  the  avaricious  nature  in  him, 
and  is  not  single-minded  towards  virtue,  having  lost  his  best 
guardian. 

Who  is  that  ?  said  Adeimantus. 

Philosophy,  I  said,  tempered  with  music,8  who  comes  and 

i  See  Book  IV. ,  439  and  following. 

6  This  sentence  embraces  Plato's  entire  scheme  of  education.  In  early 
life  the  soul  should  be  compassed  by  influences  in  art  form,  which  have  been 
determined  in  accordance  with  absolute  truth  by  the  philosopher.  Later, 
the  soul  which  is  properly  educated  through  such  influences  should  rise  to 
clear  knowledge  of  the  absolute  truth  by  means  of  philosophic  reflection. 


348  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

takes  up  her  abode  in  a  man  through  life,  and  is  the  only  sa- 
viour of  his  virtue. 

Good,  he  said. 

Such,  I  said,  is  the  timocratical  youth,  and  he  is  like  the 
timocratical  State. 

Exactly. 

His  origin  is  as  follows :  He  is  often  the  son  of  a  brave  father, 
who  dwells  in  an  ill-governed  city,  the  honors  and  offices  of 
which  he  declines,  and  will  not  go  to  law,  but  is  ready  to 
waive  his  rights  in  order  that  he  may  escape  trouble. 

And  how  does  the  son  come  into  being  ? 

The  character  of  the  son  begins  to  develop  when  he  hears 
his  mother  grumbling  at  her  husband  for  not  having  a  seat  in 
the  government,  the  consequence  of  which  is  that  she  loses 
precedence  among  other  women.  Further,  when  she  sees  her 
husband  not  very  eager  about  money,  and  instead  of  battling 
and  railing  in  the  law  courts  or  assembly,  taking  everything 
of  that  sort  quietly  ;  and  when  she  observes  that  his  thoughts 
always  centre  in  himself,  while  he  treats  her  with  very  con- 
siderable indifference,  she  is  annoyed  at  all  this,  and  says  to 
her  son  that  his  father  is  only  half  a  man  and  far  too  easy- 
going :  not  to  mention  other  similar  complaints  which  women 
love  to  utter. 

Yes,  said  Adeimantus,  they  give  us  plenty  of  them,  and  in 
their  own  characteristic  style. 

And  you  know,  I  said,  that  the  old  servants  of  the  family, 
who  are  supposed  to  be  attached,  talk  privately  in  the  same 
strain  to  the  sons ;  and  if  they  see  any  one  who  owes  money 
to  their  father,  or  is  wronging  him  in  any  way,  and  he  fails  to 
prosecute  them,  they  tell  the  youth  that  when  he  grows  up  he 
must  retaliate  upon  his  injurers,  and  be  more  of  a  man 
than  his  father.  He  has  only  to  walk  abroad  and  he 
hears  and  sees  the  same  sort  of  thing:  those  who  do  their  own 
business  in  the  city  are  called  simple,  and  held  in  no  esteem, 
while  the  busybodies  are  honored  and  applauded.  The  result 
is  that  the  young  man,  hearing  and  seeing  all  these  things, — 
hearing,  too,  the  words  of  his  father,  and  having  a  nearer 
view  of  his  way  of  life,  and  making  comparisons  of  him  and 
others, — is  drawn  opposite  ways :  while  his  father  is  watering 
and  nourishing  the  rational  principle  in  his  soul,  the  others 
are  encouraging  the  passionate  and  appetitive ;  and  he  being 


THE  REPUBLIC  349 

not  originally  of  a  bad  nature,  but  having  kept  bad  company, 
is  brought  by  their  joint  influence  to  a  middle  point,  and 
gives  up  the  kingdom  which  is  within  him  to  the  middle  prin- 
ciple of  contentiousness  and  passion,9  and  becomes  proud  and 
ambitious. 

You  seem  to  me  to  have  described  his  origin  perfectly. 

Then  we  have  now,  I  said,  the  second  form  of  government 
and  the  second  type  of  character  ? 

We  have. 

Next,  let  us  look  at  another  man  who,  as  ^Eschylus  says,  is 
set  over  against  another  State ;  or  rather,  as  our  plan  requires, 
begin  with  the  State. 

By  all  means. 

I  believe  that  oligarchy  follows  next  in  order. 

And  what  manner  of  government  do  you  term  oligarchy  ? 

A  government  resting  on  a  valuation  of  property,  in  which 
the  rich  have  power  and  the  poor  are  deprived  of  power. 

I  understand,  he  replied. 

Shall  I  describe  how  the  change  from  timocracy  to  oligarchy 
arises  ? 

Yes. 

Well,  I  said,  no  eyes  are  required  in  order  to  see  how  that 
comes  about. 

How? 

That  private  hoard  of  theirs  is  the  source  of  the  evil ;  the 
accumulation  of  gold  ruins  timocracy :  they  invent  some  ex- 
travagance which  is  in  open  contravention  of  the  law,  but 
neither  they  nor  their  wives  care  about  this. 

That  might  be  expected. 

And  then  one  seeing  another  prepares  to  rival  him,  and  thus 
the  whole  body  of  the  citizens  acquires  a  similar  character. 

Likely  enough. 

After  that  they  get  on  in  trade,  and  the  more  they  think  of 
this  the  less  they  think  of  virtue;  for  when  riches  and  virtue 
are  placed  together  in  the  scales  of  the  balance,  the  one  always 
rises  as  the  other  falls. 

True. 

And  in  proportion  as  riches  and  rich  men  are  honored 
in  the  State,  virtue  and  the  virtuous  are  dishonored. 

Clearly. 

•  See  Book  IV.,  435-442- 


350  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

And  what  is  honored  is  cultivated,  and  that  which  has  no 
honor  is  neglected. 

That  is  the  case. 

And  so  at  last,  instead  of  loving  contention  and  glory,  men 
become  lovers  of  trade  and  money,  and  they  honor  and  rever- 
ence the  rich  man,  and  make  a  ruler  of  him,  and  dishonor  the 
poor  man. 

Certainly. 

Then  they  proceed  to  make  a  law  which  fixes  a  sum  of 
money  as  the  qualification  of  citizenship  j  the  money  fixed  is 
more  or  less  as  the  oligarchy  is  more  or  less  exclusive ;  and 
they  forbid  any  one  whose  property  is  below  the  amount  fixed 
to  share  in  the  government ;  these  changes  in  the  constitution 
they  effect  by  force  of  arms,  if  intimidation  has  not  already 
done  the  work. 

Very  true. 

And  this,  speaking  generally,  is  the  way  in  which  oligarchy 
is  established. 

Yes,  he  said ;  but  what  are  the  characteristics  of  this  form 
of  government,  and  what  are  the  supposed  defects  ? 

First  of  all,  I  said,  consider  the  nature  of  the  qualification. 
Just  think  what  would  happen  if  the  pilots  were  to  be  chosen 
according  to  their  property,  and  a  poor  man  refused  permission 
to  steer,  even  though  he  were  a  better  pilot? 

You  mean  that  they  would  shipwreck  ? 

Yes ;  and  is  not  this  true  of  the  government  of  anything  ? 

Yes,  that  is  what  I  should  imagine. 

And  would  you  say  this  of  a  city  also,  or  do  you  make  an 
exception  in  favor  of  a  city? 

Nay,  he  said,  the  case  of  a  city  is  still  stronger,  in  propor- 
tion as  the  rule  of  a  city  is  greater  and  more  difficult. 

This,  then,  will  be  the  first  great  defect  of  oligarchy  ? 

Clearly. 

And  here  is  another  defect  which  is  quite  as  bad. 

What  defect  ? 

The  inevitable  division ;  such  a  State  is  not  one,  but  two 
States,  the  one  of  poor  men,  the  other  of  rich  men,  who  are 
living  on  the  same  spot  and  ever  conspiring  against  one  an- 
other. 

Yes,  that  is  equally  bad. 
^Another  discreditable  feature  is  the  impossibility  of  carrying 


THE   REPUBLIC  35 1 

on  any  war,  because  if  they  arm  and  use  the  multitude  they 
are  more  afraid  of  them  than  of  the  enemy:  that  is  unavoida- 
ble. If  they  do  not  use  them,  then,  in  the  hour  of  battle, 
they  appear  oligarchs  indeed,  few  to  fight  and  few  to  rule  : 
and  at  the  same  time  their  fondness  for  money  makes  them 
unwilling  to  pay  taxes. 

That  is  not  creditable. 

And  what  do  you  say  of  our  former  charge  that,  under  such 
a  constitution,  the  same  persons  are  busy  at  many  things, 
and   are  husbandmen,  tradesmen,  warriors,  all  in  one? 
Does  that  seem  well  ? 

Anything  but  well. 

There  is  another  evil  which  is,  perhaps,  the  greatest  of  all, 
and  to  which  this  State  first  begins  to  be  liable. 

What  is  the  evil? 

The  evil  is  that  a  man  may  sell  all  that  he  has,  and  another 
may  possess  his  property,  yet  after  the  sale  he  may  dwell  in  the 
city  of  which  he  is  no  longer  a  part,  being  neither  trader,  nor 
artisan,  nor  horseman,  nor  hoplite,10  but  only  poor  and  helpless. 

Yes,  that  begins  in  this  State. 

An  oligarchy  offers  no  security  against  this ;  for  oligarchies 
have  both  the  extremes  of  great  wealth  and  utter  poverty. 

True. 

But  think  again  :  what  sort  of  a  gentleman  is  this  ?  In  his 
wealthy  days,  while  he  was  spending  his  money,  was  he  a  whit 
more  good  to  the  State  for  the  purposes  of  which  we  were  just 
now  speaking?  Or  did  he  only  seem  to  be  a  member  of  the 
ruling  body,  being  really  no  more  a  ruler  than  he  was  a  sub- 
ject, but  just  a  spendthrift? 

As  you  say,  he  seemed  to  be  a  ruler,  but  was  only  a  spend- 
thrift. 

May  we  not  say  that  this  is  the  drone  in  the  house  who  is 
like  the  drone  in  the  honeycomb,  and  that  the  one  is  the 
plague  of  the  city  as  the  other  is  of  the  hive? 

Just  so,  Socrates. 

And  God  has  made  the  flying  drones,  Adeimantus,  all  with- 
out stings,  whereas  of  the  walking  drones  he  has  made  some 
without  stings  and  others  with  dreadful  stings  :  of  the  stingless 
class  are  those  who  in  their  old  age  end  by  dying  paupers ;  of 
the  stingers  come  all  the  criminal  class,  as  they  are  termed. 
10  Heavy-armed  soldier. 


352  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Most  true,  he  said. 

Clearly  then,  whenever  you  see  paupers  in  a  State,  some- 
where in  that  neighborhood  there  are  hidden  away  thieves  and 
cut  purses,  and  robbers  of  temples,  and  other  malefactors. 

That  is  clear. 

Well,  I  said,  and  in  oligarchical  States  do  you  not  find  pau- 
pers? 

Yes,  he  said ;  nearly  everybody  is  a  pauper  who  is  not  a  ruler. 

And  may  we  be  so  bold  as  to  suppose  that  there  are  also 
many  criminals  to  be  found  in  them,  rogues  who  have  stings, 
and  whom  the  authorities  are  careful  to  restrain  by  force? 

Certainly,  we  may  be  so  bold. 

The  existence  of  such  persons  is  to  be  attributed  to  want 
of  education,  ill-training,  and  an  evil  constitution  of  the  State? 

True. 

Such,  then,  is  the  form  and  such  are  the  evils  of  oligarchy  ; 
and  there  may  be  other  evils. 

That  is  pretty  much  the  truth. 

Then  now  oligarchy,  or  the  form  of  government  in  which 
the  rulers  are  elected  for  their  wealth,  may  be  regarded 
as  dismissed.  Let  us  next  proceed  to  consider  the  nat- 
ure and  origin  of  the  individual  who  answers  to  the  State. 

Yes,  by  all  means. 

Is  not  this  the  manner  of  the  change  from  the  timocratical  to 
the  oligarchical  ?  Suppose  the  representative  of  timocracy  to 
have  a  son  :  at  first  he  begins  by  emulating  his  father  and 
walking  in  his  footsteps,  but  presently  he  sees  him  strike  all  in 
a  moment  on  a  sunken  reef,  which  is  the  State,  and  he  and  all 
that  he  has  are  lost ;  he  may  have  been  a  general  or  some  other 
high  officer  who  is  brought  to  trial  under  a  prejudice  raised  by 
informers,  and  either  put  to  death,  or  exiled,  or  deprived  of 
the  privileges  of  a  citizen,  and  all  his  property  taken  from  him. 

That  is  very  likely  to  happen. 

And  the  son  has  seen  and  known  all  this — he  is  a  ruined 
man,  and  his  fear  has  taught  him  to  knock  ambition  and  pas- 
sion headforemost  from  his  bosom's  throne  :  humbled  by  pov- 
erty he  takes  to  money-making,  and  by  mean  and  small  sav- 
ings and  doings  gets  a  fortune  together.  Is  not  this  man 
likely  to  seat  the  concupiscent  and  covetous  elements  on  that 
vacant  throne  ?  They  will  play  the  great  king  within  him, 
and  he  will  array  them  with  tiara  and  collar  and  scimitar. 


THE   REPUBLIC  353 

Likely  !     Yes,  he  replied. 

And  when  he  has  made  the  reasoning  and  passionate  facul- 
ties sit  on  the  ground  obediently  on  either  side,  and  taught 
them  to  know  their  place,  he  compels  the  one  to  think  only 
of  the  method  by  which  lesser  sums  may  be  converted  into 
larger  ones,  and  schools  the  other  into  the  worship  and  admi- 
ration of  riches  and  rich  men ;  no  ambition  will  he  tolerate 
except  the  ambition  of  getting  rich  and  the  means  which 
lead  to  this. 

Of  all  conversions,  he  said,  there  is  none  so  speedy  or  so 
sure  as  when  the  ambitious  youth  changes  into  the  avaricious 
one. 

And  the  avaricious,  I  said,  is  the  oligarchical  youth? 

Yes,  he  said  j  at  any  rate  the  individual  out  of  whom  he 
came  is  like  the  State  out  of  which  oligarchy  came. 

Let  us  then  consider  whether  there  is  any  likeness  between 
them. 

Very  good. 

First,  then,  they  resemble  one  another  in  the  value  0i>4 
which  they  set  upon  wealth  ? 

Certainly. 

Also  in  their  penurious,  laborious  character ;  the  individual 
only  satisfies  his  necessary  appetites,  and  confines  his  expendi- 
ture to  them ;  his  other  desires  he  subdues,  under  the  idea 
that  there  is  no  use  in  them  ? 

True. 

He  is  a  shabby  fellow,  I  said,  who  saves  something  out  of 
everything  and  makes  a  purse  for  himself ;  and  this  is  the  sort 
of  man  whom  the  vulgar  applaud.  Is  he  not  like  the  State 
which  he  represents  ? 

That  would  be  my  view  of  him,  he  replied  ;  at  any  rate, 
money  is  highly  valued  by  him  as  well  as  by  the  State. 

Why,  he  is  not  a  man  of  cultivation,  I  said. 

I  imagine  not,  he  said ;  had  he  been  educated  he  would 
never  have  made  a  blind  god  director  of  his  chorus,  or  given 
him  chief  honor.11 

Excellent !  I  said.     Yet  consider  this  :   Will  there  not  be 

»  Plutus,  god  of  wealth  (identified  with  Hades  or  Pluto,  god  of  the  lower 
world)  :  according  to  one  myth  blinded  by  Zeus  in  order  that  he  might  dis- 
tribute his  wealth  impartially.  Jowett  paraphrases  the  passage  thus  :  "He 
would  never  have  allowed  the  blind  god  of  riches  to  lead  the  dance  within 
him." 

23 


354  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

found  in  him,  owing  to  his  want  of  cultivation,  dronelike  de- 
sires as  of  pauper  and  rogue,  which  are  forcibly  kept  down  by 
his  general  habit  of  life  ? 

True. 

Do  you  know  where  you  will  have  to  look  if  you  want  to 
discover  his  rogueries  ? 

Where  must  I  look  ? 

Let  him  be  the  guardian  of  an  orphan,  or  have  some  other 
great  opportunity  of  acting  dishonestly,  and  then  he  will 
show  that,  in  sustaining  the  reputation  of  uprightness  which 
attaches  to  him  in  his  dealings  generally,  he  coerces  his  other 
bad  passions  by  an  effort  of  virtue ;  not  that  he  convinces 
them  of  evil,  or  exerts  over  them  the  gentle  influence  of  reason, 
but  he  acts  upon  them  by  necessity  and  fear,  and  because  he 
trembles  for  his  possessions. 

That  is  clear. 

Yes,  indeed,  I  said,  my  dear  friend,  you  will  find  that  the 
natural  desires  of  the  drone  commonly  exist  in  him  all  the  same, 
whenever  he  has  the  spending  of  another's  goods. 

No  mistake  about  that. 

This  sort  of  man,  then,  will  be  at  war  with  himself;  he 
will  be  two  men,  and  not  one ;  but,  in  general,  his  better  de- 
sires will  be  found  to  prevail  over  his  inferior  ones. 

True. 

For  these  reasons  such  an  one  will  be  more  decent  than 
many  are ;  yet  the  true  virtue  of  a  unanimous  and  harmonious 
soul  will  be  far  out  of  his  reach. 

That  I  believe. 

And  surely,  in  his  private  capacity,  the  miser  will  be  an 
ignoble  competitor  in  a  State  for  any  prize  of  victory,  or 
other  object  of  honorable  ambition  ;  he  is  too  much 
afraid  of  awakening  his  expensive  appetites  and  inviting 
them  to  help  and  join  in  the  struggle ;  in  true  oligarchical 
fashion  he  fights  with  a  small  part  only  of  his  resources,  and 
the  result  commonly  is  that  he  loses  the  prize  and  saves  his 
money. 

Very  true. 

Can  we  any  longer  doubt,  then,  that  the  miser  and  money- 
maker answers  to  the  oligarchical  State  ? 

Certainly  not. 

Next  comes  democracy  and  the  democratical    man :   the 


THE   REPUBLIC 

origin  and  nature  of  them  we  have  still  to  learn,  that  we  may 
compare  the  individual  and  the  State,  and  so  pronounce  upon 
them. 

That,  he  said,  is  our  method. 

Well,  I  said,  is  not  this  the  way  in  which  the  change  from 
oligarchy  into  democracy  arises  ? — they  are  insatiable  of 
wealth  which  they  propose  to  themselves  as  their  end ;  and 
the  rulers,  who  are  aware  that  their  own  power  rests  upon 
property,  refuse  to  curtail  by  law  the  extravagance  of  the 
spendthrift  youth  because  they  will  gain  by  their  ruin ;  they 
lend  them  money,  and  buy  them  out  of  their  land,  and  grow 
in  wealth  and  honor  ? 

Exactly. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  a  State  you  cannot  have  in 
the  citizens  the  love  of  wealth  and  the  spirit  of  moderation  j 
one  or  the  other  will  have  to  be  disregarded. 

That  is  tolerably  clear. 

And  in  oligarchical  States,  from  carelessness  and  the  indul- 
gence of  their  extravagance,  men  of  good  family  have  often 
been  reduced  to  beggary  ? 

Yes,  often. 

And  still  they  remain  in  the  city ;  there  they  are,  and  they 
have  stings  and  arms,  and  some  of  them  owe  money,  some  are 
no  longer  citizens 12 :  a  third  class  are  in  both  predicaments, 
and  they  hate  and  conspire  against  those  who  have  got  their 
property,  and  anybody  else,  and  are  eager  for  revolution. 

That  is  true. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  men  of  business,  stooping  as  they 
walk,  and  pretending  never  so  much  as  to  see  those  whom  they 
have  already  ruined,  insert  the  sting — that  is,  their  money — 
into  anybody  else  who  is  not  on  his  guard  against  them,  and 
recover  the  parent  or  principal  sum  many  times  over  multi- 
plied into  a  family  of  children  :  this  is  the  way  in  which  they 
make  drone  and  pauper  to  abound  in  the  State. 

Yes,  he  said,  there  are  plenty  of  them,  that  is  cer-  , 
tain. 

The  evil  is  like  a  fire  which  is  blazing  up,  and  which  they 
will  not  extinguish  either  by  placing  restriction  on  the  dis- 
position of  property  or — 

What  is  the  other  solution  of  the  difficulty  ? 

12  Literally  some  are  dishonored,  i.e. ,  officially  deprived  of  citizenship. 


356  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

One  which  is  about  as  good,  and  has  the  advantage  of  com- 
pelling the  citizens  to  look  to  their  characters :  Let  there  be 
an  ordinance  that  every  one  shall  enter  into  voluntary  con- 
tracts at  his  own  risk,  and  there  will  be  less  of  this  scandalous 
money-making,  and  the  evils  of  which  we  were  speaking  will 
be  greatly  lessened  in  the  State. 

Yes,  they  will  be  greatly  lessened. 

At  present  the  governors,  induced  by  the  motives  which  I 
have  named,  treat  their  subjects  badly  ;  while  they  and  their 
adherents,  especially  the  young  men  of  the  governing  class, 
lead  a  life  of  luxury  and  idleness  both  of  body  and  mind  ; 
they  do  nothing,  and  are  incapable  of  holding  out  against 
pleasure  and  pain. 

Very  true. 

They  care  only  for  making  money,  and  are  as  indifferent 
as  the  pauper  to  the  cultivation  of  virtue. 

Yes,  quite  indifferent. 

Now  in  this  state  of  things  the  rulers  and  their  subjects 
come  in  one  another's  way,  whether  on  a  journey  or  some 
other  occasion  of  meeting,  or  on  a  pilgrimage  or  march  as 
fellow-soldiers  or  fellow-sailors  ;  they  observe  each  other  in 
the  moment  of  danger  (and  where  danger  is  there  is  no  fear 
that  the  poor  will  be  despised  by  the  rich),  and  very  likely 
the  wiry,  sunburnt  poor  man  may  be  placed  in  battle  at  the 
side  of  a  wealthy  one  who  has  never  spoilt  his  complexion, 
and  has  plenty  of  superfluous  flesh — when  he  sees  such  an  one 
puffing  and  at  his  wits' -end,  can  he  avoid  drawing  the  con- 
clusion that  men  of  this  sort  are  only  rich  because  no  one  has 
the  courage  to  despoil  them  ?  And  when  they  meet  in  private 
will  they  not  be  saying  to  one  another  that  our  "  warriors  are 
nothing  worth?  " 

Yes,  he  said,  I  am  quite  aware  that  this  is  their  way  of  talking. 

And,  as  where  a  body  is  weak  the  addition  of  a  touch  from 
without  may  bring  on  illness,  and  sometimes  even  when  there 
is  no  external  provocation  a  commotion  may  arise  within,  in 
the  same  way  where  there  is  weakness  in  the  State  there  is  also 
likely  to  be  illness,  the  occasion  of  which  may  be  very  slight, 
one  party  introducing  their  democratical,  the  other  their 
oligarchical  allies,  and  the  State  may  fall  sick,  and  be 
at  war  with  herself  and  in  a  state  of  distraction,  even  when 
there  is  no  external  cause. 


THE  REPUBLIC  357 

Yes,  surely. 

And  then  democracy  comes  into  being  after  the  poor  have 
conquered  their  opponents,  slaughtering  some  and  banishing 
some,  while  to  the  remainder  they  give  an  equal  share  of 
freedom  and  power  j  and  this  is  the  form  of  government  in 
which  the  magistrates  are  commonly  elected  by  lot.13 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  nature  of  democracy,  whether  es- 
tablished by  arms  or  by  fear,  and  the  withdrawal  of  the 
opposite  party. 

And  now  what  is  their  manner  of  life,  and  what  sort  of  a 
government  is  this?  For  as  the  government  is,  such  will  be 
the  man. 

Clearly,  he  said. 

In  the  first  place,  are  they  not  free  ?  and  the  city  is  full  of 
freedom  and  frankness — there  a  man  may  do  as  he  likes. 

Yes,  that  is  often  said,  he  replied. 

And  where  this  freedom  is,  there  every  man  is  clearly  able  to 
order  his  life  as  he  pleases? 

Clearly. 

Then  in  this  kind  of  State  there  will  be  the  greatest  variety 
of  human  natures  ? 

There  will. 

This,  then,  is  likely  to  be  the  fairest  of  States,  and  may  be 
compared  to  an  embroidered  robe  which  is  spangled  with 
flowers ;  and  being  in  like  manner  spangled  with  the  manners 
and  characters  of  mankind  will  appear  to  be  the  fairest  of  them 
all.  And  just  as  women  and  children  think  variety  charm- 
ing, so  there  are  many  men  who  will  deem  this  the  fairest  of 
States. 

Yes. 

Yes,  I  said,  my  noble  sir,  and  a  good  place  in  which  to  go 
and  look  for  a  government. 

Why? 

Because  of  the  liberty  which  reigns  there:  they  have  a  com- 
plete assortment  of  constitutions ;  and  if  a  man  has  a  mind  to 
establish  a  State,  as  we  are  doing,  he  must  go  to  a  democracy 
as  he  would  go  to  a  bazaar,  where  they  sell  them,  and  pick  out 
one  that  suits  him  ;  then,  when  he  has  made  his  choice,  he  may 
lay  the  foundation  of  his  State. 

He  will  be  sure,  he  said,  to  have  patterns  enough. 
18  In  Athens  at  that  time  many  offices  were  assigned  by  lot. 


358  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

And  there  being  no  necessity,  I  said,  for  you  to  govern  in 
this  State,  even  if  you  have  the  capacity,  or  to  be  governed 
unless  you  like,  or  to  go  to  war  when  the  others  go  to  war,  or 
to  be  at  peace  when  others  are  at  peace,  unless  you  are  dis- 
posed— there  being  no  necessity  also  because  some  law  forbids 
you  to  hold  office  or  be  a  dicast,14  that  you  should  not  hold 

£  office  or  be  a  dicast,  if  you  have  a  mind  yourself — is  not 
5  that  a  way  of  life  which  for  the  moment  is  supremely 
delightful  ? 

Yes,  for  the  moment,  that  is  true. 

And  is  not  the  calmness  of  those  against  whom  sentence  has 
been  given  often  quite  charming?  Under  a  government  of 
this  sort  there  are  men  who,  when  they  have  been  condemned 
to  death  or  exile,  stay  where  they  are  and  walk  about  the 
world  ;  the  gentleman  parades  like  a  hero,  as  though  nobody 
saw  or  cared. 

Yes,  he  replied,  I  have  often  remarked  that. 

Yes,  I  said ;  and  the  forgiving  spirit  of  democracy,  and  the 
" don't  care"  about  trifles,  and  the  disregard  which  she  shows 
of  all  the  fine  principles  which  we  were  solemnly  affirming  at 
the  foundation  of  the  city — as  when  we  said  that,  except  in 
the  case  of  some  rare  natures,  never  will  there  be  a  good  man 
who  from  his  early  youth  has  not  made  things  of  beauty  an 
amusement  and  also  a  study — how  grandly  does  she  trample 
all  that  under  foot,  never  giving  a  thought  to  the  pursuits 
which  make  a  statesman,  and  is  satisfied  to  honor  a  man  who 
says  that  he  is  the  people's  friend. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  glorious. 

These  and  other  kindred  characteristics  are  proper  to  democ- 
racy, which  is  a  charming  form  of  government,  full  of  variety 
and  diversity,  and  dispensing  equality  to  equals  and  unequals 
alike. 

That,  he  said,  is  sufficiently  well-known. 

Consider  now,  I  said,  what  manner  of  man  the  individual 
is,  or  rather  consider,  as  in  the  case  of  the  State,  how  he  is 
created. 

Very  good,  he  said. 

Is  not  this  the  way, — he  is  the  son  of  the  miserly  and  oli- 
garchical father  who  has  trained  him  in  his  own  habits  ? 

Exactly. 
14  An  Athenian  judicial  officer  corresponding  somewhat  to  our  juryman. 


THE   REPUBLIC  359 

And,  like  his  father,  he  keeps  under  the  pleasures  which  are 
of  the  spending  and  not  of  the  getting  sort,  being  those  which 
are  called  by  us  unnecessary.  The  argument  will  be  clearer  if 
we  here  distinguish  which  are  the  necessary  and  which  are  the 
unnecessary  pleasures. 

I  should  like  to  do  that. 

Necessary  pleasures  are  those  of  which  we  cannot  get  rid, 
and  which  benefit  us  when  they  are  satisfied  ;  both  kinds  are 
rightly  called  necessary,  because  our  nature  is  necessarily  at- 
tracted to  them. 

True. 

And  therefore  we   are  not  wrong  in    calling   them 
necessary  ? 

We  are  not. 

Again,  as  to  the  desires  which  a  man  may  get  rid  of,  if  he 
makes  that  his  object  when  young,  the  presence  of  which, 
moreover,  does  no  good,  and  in  some  cases  the  reverse  of 
good, — shall  we  not  be  right  in  saying  that  all  these  are  un- 
necessary ? 

Yes,  certainly. 

Suppose  we  select  an  example  of  either  kind,  in  order  that 
we  may  have  a  general  notion  of  them  ? 

Very  good. 

Will  not  the  desire  of  eating,  that  is,  of  simple  food  and 
condiments,  as  far  as  they  are  required  for  health  and  strength, 
be  of  the  necessary  class  ? 

That  is  what  I  should  suppose. 

The  pleasure  of  eating  is  necessary  in  two  ways, — first  as 
beneficial,  and  also  as  needed  for  the  support  of  life  ? 

Yes. 

But  the  condiments  are  only  necessary  as  being  good  for 
health  ? 

Certainly. 

And  the  desire  which  goes  beyond  this  of  viands  of  a  less 
simple  kind,  which  might  generally  be  got  rid  of,  if  controlled 
and  trained  in  youth,  and  is  hurtful  to  the  body  and  hurtful 
to  the  soul  in  the  pursuit  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  may  be 
rightly  called  unnecessary  ? 

Very  right. 

May  we  not  say  that  these  spend  and  the  other  desires  make 
money,  because  they  are  of  use  with  a  view  to  production? 


360  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Certainly. 

And  of  the  pleasures  of  love,  and  all  other  pleasures,  the 
same  holds  good? 

True. 

And  the  drone  of  which  we  were  speaking  meant  him  who 
was  surfeited  in  pleasures  and  desires  of  this  sort,  and  was 
governed  by  the  unnecessary  desires,  whereas  he  who  was 
governed  by  the  necessary  was  miserly  and  oligarchical  ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Again,  I  said,  let  us  see  how  the  democratical  man  grows 
out  of  the  oligarchical :  the  following,  as  I  suspect,  is  com- 
monly the  process. 

What  ? 

When  a  young  man  who  has  been  brought  up  as  we  were 
just  now  describing,  in  a  vulgar  and  miserly  way,  has  tasted 
drones'  honey  and  has  come  to  associate  with  fierce  and  cun- 
ning natures  who  are  able  to  provide  for  him  all  sorts  of  re- 
finements and  varieties  of  pleasure, — then,  as  you  may  imagine, 
the  change  will  begin  of  the  oligarchical  principle  within  him 
into  the  democratical. 

That,  he  said,  is  the  inevitable  result. 

And  as  in  the  city  like  was  helping  like,  and  the  change 
was  effected  by  an  alliance  from  without  assisting  one  division 
of  the  citizens,  so  the  young  man  also  changes  by  a  class  of  de- 
sires from  without  assisting  a  class  of  those  within,  that  which 
is  akin  and  alike  again  helping  that  which  is  akin  and  alike. 

Certainly. 

And  if  there  be  any  ally  which  aids  the  oligarchical  side, 
whether  the  influence  of  friends  or  kindred,  advising  or 
rebuking  him,  then  there  arises  a  faction  and  an  opposite 
faction,  and  the  result  is  a  civil  war. 

Certainly. 

And  there  are  times  when  the  democratical  principle  gives 
way  to  the  oligarchical,  and  some  of  his  desires  die,  and  oth- 
ers are  banished;  a  spirit  of  reverence  enters  into  the  young 
man's  soul  and  order  is  restored. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  sometimes  happens. 

And  then,  again,  after  the  old  desires  have  been  driven  out 
fresh  ones  spring  up,  which  are  like  them ;  they  have  never 
known  a  parent's  discipline,  and  this  makes  them  fierce  and 
numerous. 


THE   REPUBLIC  36 1 

Yes,  he  said,  that  often  occurs. 

They  draw  him  to  his  old  associates,  and  holding  secret 
intercourse  with  him,  breed  and  muster  in  him?  15 

Very  true. 

At  length  they  seize  upon  the  citadel  of  the  young  man's 
soul,  which  they  perceive  to  be  void  of  all  fair  accomplish- 
ments and  pursuits  and  of  every  true  word,  which  are  the  best 
guardians  and  sentinels  in  the  minds  of  men  dear  to  the  gods. 

None  better. 

False  and  boastful  words  and  conceits  grow  up  instead  of 
them,  and  take  the  same  position  in  him? 

Yes,  he  said  ;  indeed  they  do. 

And  so  the  young  man  returns  into  the  country  of  the  lotus- 
eaters,16  and  takes  up  his  abode  there  in  the  face  of  all  men, 
and  if  any  help  be  sent  by  his  friends  to  the  oligarchical  part 
of  him,  the  vain  conceits  shut  the  gate  of  the  king's  fastness ; 
they  will  not  allow  the  new  ally  to  pass.  And  if  ambassadors, 
venerable  for  their  age,  come  and  parley,  they  refuse  to  listen 
to  them  ;  there  is  a  battle  and  they  win  :  then  modesty,  which 
they  call  silliness,  is  ignominiously  thrust  into  exile  by  them. 
They  affirm  temperance  to  be  unmanliness,  and  her  also  they 
contemptuously  eject ;  and  they  pretend  that  moderation  and 
orderly  expenditure  are  vulgarity  and  meanness  ;  and,  with  a 
company  of  vain  appetites  at  their  heels,  they  drive  them  be- 
yond the  border. 

Yes,  with  right  good  will. 

And  when  they  have  made  a  sweep  of  the  soul  of  him  who 
is  now  in  their  power,  and  is  being  initiated  by  them  in  great 

is  <<  When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh  through  dry 
places,  seeking  rest  ;  and  finding  none,  he  saith,  I  will  return  unto  my  house 
whence  I  came  out.  And  when  he  cometh,  he  findeth  it  swept  and  gar- 
nished. Then  goeth  he  and  taketh  to  him  seven  other  spirits  more  wicked 
than  himself;  and  they  enter  in  and  dwell  there  ;  and  the  last  state  of  that 
man  is  worse  than  the  first." — Luke  xi.  24-26. 

18  According  to  Homeric  legend,  Odysseus  in  his  wanderings  came  to  a 
land  whose  people  ate  only  the  fruit  and  blossom  of  a  plant  called  the  lotus. 
Those  who  tasted  this  food  wished  to  remain  there  forever  and  lost  all  desire 
for  home. 

"  Whoever  tasted  once  of  that  sweet  food 
Wished  not  to  see  his  native  country  more, 
Nor  give  his  friends  the  knowledge  of  his  fate. 
And  then  my  messengers  desired  to  dwell 
Among  the  Lotus-eaters,  and  to  feed 
Upon  the  lotus,  never  to  return." 

—Bryant's  Homer. 
See  Tennyson's  ••  Lotus  Eaters." 


362  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

mysteries,17  the  next  thing  is  to  bring  back  to  their  house  in- 
solence and  anarchy  and  waste  and  impudence  in  bright  array, 
having  garlands  on  their  heads,  with  a  great  company,  while 
they  hymn  their  praises  and  call  them  by  sweet  names ;  inso- 
,  lence  they  term  breeding,  and  anarchy  liberty,  and 
5  waste  magnificence,  and  impudence  courage.  In  this 
way  the  young  man  passes  out  of  his  original  nature,  which 
was  trained  in  the  school  of  necessity,  into  the  freedom  and 
libertinism  of  useless  and  unnecessary  pleasures. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  obviously  the  way. 

When  the  change  has  been  made  he  lives  on,  spending  his 
money  and  labor  and  time  on  unnecessary  pleasures  quite  as 
much  as  on  necessary  ones ;  but  if  he  be  fortunate,  and  is 
not  too  much  intoxicated  with  passion,  when  he  gets  older, 
after  the  tumult  of  freedom  has  mostly  passed  away — suppos- 
ing that  he  then  re-admits  into  the  city  some  part  of  the  ex- 
iled virtues,  and  does  not  wholly  give  himself  up  to  their 
successors — in  that  case  he  balances  his  pleasures  and  lives  in 
a  sort  of  equilibrium,  putting  the  government  of  himself  into 
the  hands  of  the  one  that  offers  and  wins  the  turn ;  and  when 
he  has  had  enough  of  that,  then  into  the  hands  of  another, 
and  is  very  impartial  in  his  encouragement  of  them  all. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Neither  does  he  receive  or  admit  into  the  fortress  any  true 
word  of  advice  ;  if  any  one  says  to  him  that  some  pleasures 
are  the  satisfactions  of  good  and  noble  desires,  and  others  of 
evil  desires,  and  that  he  ought  to  use  and  honor  some  and 
curtail  and  reduce  others — whenever  this  is  repeated  to  him 
he  shakes  his  head  and  says  that  they  are  all  alike,  and  that 
one  is  as  honorable  as  another. 

Why,  yes,  he  said  ;  that  is  the  sort  of  man,  and  that  is  his 
way  of  behaving. 

Yes,  I  said,  he  lives  through  the  day  indulging  the  appetite 
of  the  hour  ;  and  sometimes  he  is  lapped  in  drink  and  strains 
of  the  flute  j  then  he  is  for  total  abstinence,  and  tries  to  get 
thin  ;  then,  again,  he  is  at  gymnastics  ;  sometimes  idling  and 
neglecting  everything,  then  once  more  living  the  life  of  a 
philosopher ;  often  he  is  at  politics,  and  starts  to  his  feet  and 
says  and  does  anything  that  may  turn  up ;  and,  if  he  is  emu- 
lous of  any  one  who  is  a  warrior,  off  he  is  in  that  direction,  or 

"  In  allusion  to  the  religious  mysteries.     See  Symposium,  note  32. 


THE  REPUBLIC  363 

of  men  of  business,  once  more  in  that.  His  life  has  neither 
order  nor  law ;  and  this  is  the  way  of  him — this  he  terms  joy 
and  freedom  and  happiness. 

Yes,  he  said,  there  is  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity  enough 
in  him. 

Yes,  I  said ;  he  may  be  described  as — 

"  A  man  so  various  that  he  seems  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome." 

He  is,  like  the  State,  a  rare  being,  and  has  many  forms.  And 
many  a  man  and  many  a  woman  will  emulate  him,  and  many 
a  constitution  and  many  an  example  of  life  is  contained  in 
him. 

That  is  true. 

Let  him  then  be  set  over  against  democracy;  he  may       , 
truly  be  called  the  democratic  man. 

Let  that  be  his  place,  he  said. 

And  now  comes  the  most  beautiful  of  all,  man  and  State 
alike,  tyranny  and  the  tyrant ;  these  we  have  to  consider. 

Quite  true,  he  said. 

Say  then,  my  friend,  how  does  tyranny  arise — out  of  democ- 
racy of  course  ? 

Clearly. 

And  does  not  tyranny  spring  from  democracy  in  the  same 
way  as  democracy  from  oligarchy — I  mean,  after  a  sort  ? 

How  is  that  ? 

The  good  which  oligarchy  proposed  was  excess  of  wealth ; 
in  this  oligarchy  originated.     Am  I  not  right  ? 

Yes. 

And  the  insatiable  desire  of  wealth,  and  the  neglect  of  all 
other  things  for  the  sake  of  money-getting,  was  also  the  ruin 
of  oligarchy? 

True. 

And  democracy  has  a  notion  of  good,  the  insatiable  desire 
of  which  also  brought  her  to  an  end  ? 

What  notion  of  good  ? 

Freedom,  I  replied  ;  that,  as  people  often  say,  is  best  in  a 
democracy — and,  therefore,  in  a  democracy  only  will  the 
freedom  of  nature  deign  to  dwell. 

Why,  said  he,  that  is  very  often  said. 

And,  I  was  going  to  observe,  that  the  insatiable  desire  of 


364  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

this  and  the  neglect  of  other  things,  introduces  the  change  in 
democracy,  which  occasions  a  demand  for  tyranny. 

How  is  that  ? 

When  a  democracy  which  is  thirsting  for  freedom  has  evil 
cup-bearers  presiding  over  the  feast,  and  has  drunk  too  deeply 
of  the  strong  wine  of  freedom,  then,  unless  her  rulers  are  very 
amenable  and  give  a  plentiful  draught,  she  calls  them  to 
account  and  punishes  them,  and  says  that  they  are  cursed  oli- 
garchs. 

Yes,  he  replied,  that  is  a  very  common  thing. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  and  loyal  citizens  are  insulted  by  her  as  lovers 
of  slavery  and  men  of  naught ;  she  would  have  subjects  who 
are  like  rulers,  and  rulers  who  are  like  subjects  :  these  are  men 
after  her  own  heart,  whom  she  praises  and  honors  both  in 
private  and  public.  Now,  in  such  a  State,  can  liberty  have 
any  limit  ? 

Certainly  not. 

Nay,  I  said,  the  anarchy  grows  and  finds  a  way  into  pri- 
vate houses,  and  ends  by  getting  among  the  animals  and  in- 
fecting them. 

How  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  that  the  father  gets  accustomed  to  descend  to  the 

level  of  his  sons  and  to  fear  them,  and  the  son  to  be  on  a  level 

with  his  father,  he  having  no  shame  or  fear  of  either  of  his 

parents  ;  and  this  is  his  freedom,  and  the  metic 18  is  equal 

,       with  the  citizen  and  the  citizen  with  the  metic,  and  the 

stranger  on  a  level  with  either. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  true. 

That  is  true,  I  said  ;  and,  moreover,  little  things  of  this 
sort  happen  :  the  master  fears  and  flatters  his  scholars,  and  the 
scholars  despise  their  masters  and  tutors ;  and,  in  general, 
young  and  old  are  alike,  and  the  young  man  is  on  a  level  with 
the  old,  and  is  ready  to  compete  with  him  in  word  or  deed; 
and  old  men  condescend  to  the  young,  and  are  full  of  pleas- 
antry and  gayety  ;  they  do  not  like  to  be  thought  morose  and 
authoritative,  and  therefore  they  imitate  the  young. 

Quite  true,  he  said. 

The  last  extreme  of  popular  liberty  is  when  the  slave  bought 
with  money,  whether  male  or  female,  is  just  as  free  as  his  or 

18  Metic  (me'tic) :  In  Athens,  a  resident  alien  who  paid  a  certain  tax  but 
had  no  civic  rights.     (L.  and  S.) 


THE  REPUBLIC  365 

her  purchaser  ;  nor  must  I  forget  to  tell  of  the  liberty  and 
equality  of  the  two  sexes  in  relation  to  each  other. 

Why  not,  he  said,  as  yEschylus  remarks,  utter  the  word 
which  rises  to  our  lips  ? 

Yes,  I  replied  ;  that  is  what  I  am  now  doing ;  and  I  must 
say  that  no  one  who  does  not  know  would  believe,  how  much 
greater  is  the  liberty  which  animals  who  are  under  the  domin- 
ion of  men  have  in  a  democracy  than  in  any  other  State  :  for 
truly,  the  she-dogs,  as  the  proverb  says,  are  as  good  as  their 
she-mistresses,  and  the  horses  and  asses  come  to  have  a  way 
of  marching  along  with  all  the  rights  and  dignities  of  free- 
men ;  and  they  will  run  at  anybody  whom  they  meet  in  the 
street  if  he  does  not  get  out  of  their  way:  and  all  things  are 
just  ready  to  burst  with  liberty. 

You  tell  me,  he  said,  my  own  dream  ;  for  that  which  you 
describe  often  happens  to  me  when  I  am  taking  a  country 
walk. 

And  above  all,  I  said,  and  as  the  result  of  all,  see  how  sen- 
sitive the  citizens  become  ;  they  chafe  impatiently  at  the  least 
touch  of  authority,  and  at  length,  as  you  know,  they  cease  to 
care  even  for  the  laws,  written  or  unwritten ;  for  they  will 
have  no  one  over  them. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  I  know  quite  well. 

And  this,  my  friend,  I  said,  is  the  fair  and  glorious  begin- 
ning out  of  which  springs  tyranny. 

Glorious  indeed,  he  said.     But  what  is  the  next  step? 

The  ruin  of  oligarchy  is  the  ruin  of  democracy  ;  the  same 
disorder  intensified  by  liberty  dominates  over  democracy,  the 
truth  being  that  the  excessive  increase  of  anything  often  causes 
a  reaction  in  the  opposite  direction  ;  and  this  is  the  . 
case  not  only  in  the  seasons  and  in  vegetable  and  ani-  4 
mal  forms,  but  above  all  in  forms  of  government. 

That  is  very  likely. 

For  excess  of  liberty,  whether  in  States  or  individuals, 
seems  only  to  pass  into  excess  of  slavery. 

Yes,  that  is  the  natural  order. 

Then  tyranny  naturally  arises  out  of  democracy,  and  the 
most  aggravated  form  of  tyranny  and  slavery  out  of  the  most 
extreme  form  of  liberty. 

Yes,  he  said,  there  is  reason  in  all  that. 

That,  however,  was  not,  as  I  believe,  your  question, — you 


366  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

rather  desired  to  know  what  is  that  disorder  which  is  gener- 
ated alike  in  oligarchy  and  democracy,  and  enslaves  both  ? 

True,  he  replied. 

Well,  I  said,  I  meant  to  refer  to  the  class  of  idle  spend- 
thrifts, of  whom  the  more  courageous  are  the  leaders  and  the 
more  timid  the  followers,  the  same  whom  we  were  comparing 
to  drones,  some  stingless,  and  others  having  stings. 

A  very  just  comparison,  he  said. 

These  two  classes  are  the  plagues  of  every  city  in  which 
they  are  generated,  being  what  phlegm  and  bile  are  to  the 
body.  And  the  good  physician  and  lawgiver  of  the  State 
ought,  like  the  wise  bee-master,  to  keep  them  at  a  distance 
and  prevent,  if  possible,  their  ever  coming  in ;  and  if  they 
have  anyhow  found  a  way  in,  then  he  should  have  them  and 
their  cells  cut  out  as  speedily  as  possible. 

Yes,  indeed,  he  said,  that  he  should. 

Then,  in  order  that  we  may  see  more  clearly  what  we  are 
doing,  let  us  imagine  democracy  to  be  divided  into  three 
classes,  which  also  exist  in  fact  j  for  liberty  creates  drones 
quite  as  much  in  the  democratic  as  in  the  oligarchical 
State. 

That  is  true. 

But  in  the  democracy  they  are  more  intensified. 

How  is  that  ? 

The  reason  is,  that  in  the  oligarchical  State,  as  they  are  dis- 
qualified and  driven  from  power,  they  cannot  train  or  gather 
strength ;  whereas  in  a  democracy  they  are  almost  the  entire 
ruling  power,  and  the  keener  sort  speak  and  act,  while  the  rest 
sit  buzzing  about  the  bema 19  and  will  not  suffer  a  word  to  be 
said  on  the  other  side  ;  and  hence  there  is  hardly  anything  in 
these  States  which  is  not  their  doing. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Then  there  is  another  class  which  is  divided  from  the  mul- 
titude. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  richest  class,  which  in  a  nation  of  traders  is  generally 
the  most  orderly. 

That  may  be  assumed. 

They  are  the  most  squeezable  persons  and  yield  the  largest 
amount  of  honey  to  the  drones. 

19  The  platform  from  which  a  speaker  addressed  an  assembly. 


THE   REPUBLIC  367 

Why,  he  said,  there  is  little  to  be  squeezed  out  of  people 
who  have  little. 

And  this  is  called  the  wealthy  class,  and  the  drones  feed 
upon  them.  , 

That  is  pretty  much  the  case,  he  said. 

There  is  also  a  third  class,  consisting  of  working  men,  who 
are  not  politicians,  and  have  little  to  live  upon.  And  this,  when 
assembled,  is  the  largest  and  most  powerful  class  in  a  democracy. 

Why,  that  is  true,  he  said  ;  but  then  the  multitude  is  seldom 
willing  to  meet  unless  they  get  a  little  honey. 

And  do  they  not  share  ?  I  said.  Do  not  their  leaders  take  the 
estates  of  the  rich,  and  give  to  the  people  as  much  of  them  as 
they  can,  consistently  with  keeping  the  greater  part  themselves  ? 

Why,  yes,  he  said,  to  that  extent  the  people  do  share. 

And  the  persons  whose  property  is  taken  from  them  are 
compelled  to  defend  themselves  as  they  best  can. 

Of  course. 

And  then,  although  they  may  have  no  desire  of  change,  the 
others  charge  them  with  plotting  against  the  State  and  being 
friends  of  oligarchy  ? 

True. 

And  the  end  is  that  when  they  see  the  people,  not  of  their 
own  accord,  but  through  ignorance,  and  because  they  are  de- 
ceived by  slanderers,  seeking  to  do  them  wrong,  then  at  last 
they  are  forced  to  become  oligarchs  in  reality,  and  this  is  occa- 
sioned by  the  stings  of  the  drones  goading  them  ? 

Exactly. 

Then  come  impeachments  and  judgments  and  trials  of  one 
another. 

True. 

The  people  have  always  some  one  as  a  champion  whom  they 
nurse  into  greatness. 

Yes,  that  is  their  way. 

And  this  is  the  very  root  from  which  a  tyrant  springs  ;  when 
he  first  appears  above  ground  he  is  a  protector. 

Yes,  that  is  quite  clear. 

How  then  does  a  protector  begin  to  change  into  a  tyrant  ? 

Clearly  when  he  does  what  the  man  is  said  to  do  in  the  tale 
of  the  Arcadian  temple  of  Lycaean  Zeus.20 

30  Lycaeus  (ly-se'us) :  a  lofty  mountain  of  Arcadia  in  southern  Greece,  was 
one  of  the  chief  seats  of  the  worship  of  Zeus. 


368  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

What  tale  ? 

The  tale  is  that  he  who  has  tasted  the  entrails  of  a  single 
human  victim  minced  up  with  the  entrails  of  other  victims  is 
destined  to  become  a  wolf.     Did  you  never  hear  that  ? 

O  yes. 

And  the  protector  of  the  people  is  like  him,  having  a  mob 
entirely  at  his  disposal,  he  is  not  restrained  from  shedding  the 
blood  of  kinsmen  j  by  the  favorite  method  of  false  accusation 
he  brings  them  into  court  and  murders  them,  making  the  life 
of  man  to  disappear,  and  with  unholy  tongue  and  lips  tasting 
the  blood  of  kindred  ;  some  he  kills  and  others  he  banishes,  at 
.,  the  same  time  proclaiming  abolition  of  debts  and  parti- 
tion of  lands :  and  after  this,  what  can  be  his  destiny  but 
either  to  perish  at  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  or  from  being  a 
man  to  become  a  wolf — that  is  a  "  tyrant?  " 

That  is  inevitable. 

This,  I  said,  is  he  who  begins  to  make  a  party  against  the 
rich. 

The  same. 

And  then  he  is  driven  out,  and  comes  back,  in  spite  of  his 
enemies,  a  tyrant  full  made. 

That  is  clear. 

And  if  they  are  unable  to  drive  him  out,  or  get  him  con- 
demned to  death  by  public  opinion,  they  form  the  design  of 
putting  him  out  of  the  way  secretly. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  usual  plan. 

Then  comes  the  famous  request  of  a  body-guard,  which  is 
made  by  all  those  who  have  got  thus  far  in  their  career,  "  Let 
not  the  people's  friend,"  as  they  say,  "  be  lost  to  them." 

Exactly. 

This  the  people  readily  grant ;  all  their  fears  are  for  him — 
they  have  no  fear  for  themselves. 

Very  true. 

And  when  a  man  who  is  wealthy  and  is  also  accused  of  be- 
ing an  enemy  of  the  people  sees  this,  then,  my  friend,  as  the 
oracle  said  to  Crcesus, — 

"  By  pebbly  Hennas'  shore  he  flees  and  rests  not,  and  is  not  ashamed 
to  be  a  coward."  ,1 

21  Part  of  the  reply  made  by  the  oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  to  Crcesus, 
king  of  Lydia,  when  he  inquired  of  the  god  whether  he  should  go  to  war 
with  Cyrus,  king  of  Persia. 


THE   REPUBLIC  369 

And  quite  right  too,  said  he,  for,  if  he  were  ashamed,  he 
would  never  be  ashamed  again. 

Yes,  I  said,  and  he  who  is  caught  is  put  to  death.22 

Inevitably. 

And  he,  the  protector  of  whom  we  spake,  is  not  fallen  in  his 
might,  but  himself  the  overthrower  of  many,  is  to  be  seen 
standing  up  in  the  chariot  of  State  with  the  reins  in  his  hand, 
no  longer  protector,  but  tyrant  absolute. 

No  doubt,  he  said. 

And  now  let  us  tell  of  the  happiness  of  the  man,  and  also  of 
the  State,  in  which  this  sort  of  creature  is  generated. 

Yes,  he  said,  let  us  tell  of  that. 

At  first,  in  the  early  days  of  his  power,  he  smiles  upon  every 
one  and  salutes  every  one ;  he  to  be  called  a  tyrant,  who  is 
making  promises  in  public  and  also  in  private  !  liberating 
debtors,  and  distributing  land  to  the  people  and  to  his  followers, 
and  wanting  to  be  kind  and  good  to  every  one. 

That  is  the  regular  thing. 

But  when  he  has  got  rid  of  foreign  enemies,  and  is  recon- 
ciled with  some  of  them  and  has  destroyed  others,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  fear  from  them,  then  he  is  always  stirring  up       , 
some  war  or  other,  in  order  that  the  people  may  re- 
quire a  leader. 

Yes,  that  may  be  expected  of  him. 

Has  he  not  also  another  object,  which  is  that  they  may  be 
impoverished  by  payment  of  taxes,  and  thus  compelled  to  de- 
vote themselves  to  their  daily  wants,  and  therefore  less  likely 
to  plot  against  him  ? 

Clearly. 

Yes,  and  if  he  suspects  any  of  them  of  having  notions  of  free- 
dom, and  of  being  disloyal  to  him,  he  has  a  good  pretext  for  de- 
stroying them  by  giving  them  up  to  the  enemy  ;  and  for  all  these 
reasons  the  tyrant  is  always  compelled  to  be  getting  up  a  war. 

That  is  inevitable. 

Now  he  begins  to  grow  unpopular. 

That  is  the  necessary  result. 

Then  some  of  those  who  joined  in  setting  him  up,  and  who 
are  in  power — that  is  to  say,  the  most  courageous  of  them — 
speak  their  minds  to  him  and  to  one  another,  and  cast  in  his 
teeth  the  things  which  are  being  done. 

82  Note  the  fate  of  Polemarchus,  Republic,  I.,  note  1. 
24 


370  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Yes,  that  is  to  be  expected. 

And  the  tyrant,  if  he  means  to  rule,  must  get  rid  of  them  j 
he  cannot  stop  while  he  has  a  friend  or  an  enemy  who  is  good 
for  anything. 

That  is  plain. 

And  therefore  he  must  use  his  eyes  and  see  who  is  valiant, 
who  is  high-minded,  who  is  wise,  who  wealthy  j  happy  man, 
he  is  the  enemy  of  them  all,  and  must  seek  occasion  against 
them  whether  he  will  or  no,  until  he  has  made  a  purgation  of 
the  State. 

Yes,  he  said,  and  a  rare  purgation. 

Yes,  I  said,  not  the  sort  of  purgation  which  the  physicians 
make  of  the  body  ;  for  they  take  away  the  worse  and  leave  the 
better  part,  but  he  does  the  opposite. 

I  suppose  that  he  cannot  help  himself,  he  replied. 

What  a  blessed  alternative,  I  said,  to  be  compelled  to  dwell 
only  with  the  many  bad,  and  hated  by  them,  or  not  to  live 
at  all. 

Yes,  that  is  the  alternative. 

And  the  more  detestable  he  is  in  his  actions  the  more  body- 
guards and  the  greater  devotion  in  them  will  he  require? 

Certainly. 

And  who  are  the  devoted  band,  and  where  will  he  procure 
them  ? 

They  will  flock  to  him,  he  said,  of  their  own  accord,  if  he 
pays  them. 

By  the  dog  !  I  said,  you  are  again  introducing  drones  out  of 
other  lands  and  of  every  sort. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  I  am. 

But  will  he  not  desire  to  get  them  on  the  spot  ? 

How  do  you  mean  ? 

He  will  emancipate  the  slaves  and  enroll  them  in  his  body- 
guard ? 

To  be  sure,  he  said,  and  he  will  be  able  to  trust  them  best  of  all. 

What  a  blessed  fellow,  I  said,  must  this  tyrant  be  ;  when  he 
has  put  to  death  the  others  he  has  only  these  for  his  trusted 
,£     friends. 

Yes,  he  said,  and  they  are  his  friends. 

Yes,  I  said,  and  these  are  the  new  citizens  whom  he  has 
called  into  existence,  who  admire  him  and  live  with  him,  while 
the  good  hate  and  avoid  him. 


THE  REPUBLIC  37 1 

Of  course. 

Verily,  then,  tragedy  is  a  wise  thing  and  Euripides  a  great 
tragedian. 

Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

Why,  because  he  is  the  author  of  that  rare  saying, — 

"Tyrants  are  wise  by  living  with  the  wise ;  " 

and  he  clearly  meant  to  say  that  they  are  the  wise  with  whom 
the  tyrant  lives. 

Yes,  he  said,  and  he  also  praises  tyranny  as  godlike :  this 
and  many  other  things  of  the  same  kind  are  said  by  him  and 
the  other  poets. 

And  therefore,  I  said,  the  tragic  poets  in  their  wisdom  will 
forgive  us  and  others  who  have  a  similar  form  of  government, 
if  we  object  to  having  them  in  our  State,  because  they  are  the 
eulogists  of  tyranny. 

Yes,  he  said,  those  who  have  the  wit  will  doubtless  forgive 
us. 

Yes,  I  said,  and  they  go  about  to  other  cities  and  attract 
mobs  ;  and  have  voices  fair  and  loud  and  persuasive,  and  draw 
the  cities  over  to  tyrannies  and  democracies. 

Very  true. 

Moreover,  they  are  paid  for  this  and  receive  honor — the 
greatest  honor  from  tyrants,  and  the  next  greatest  from  democ- 
racies j  but  the  higher  they  ascend  our  constitution  hill,  the 
more  their  reputation  fails,  and  seems  unable  from  shortness 
of  breath  to  proceed  further. 

True. 

But  we  are  digressing.  Let  us  therefore  return  and  inquire 
how  the  tyrant  will  maintain  that  fair  and  numerous  and  vari- 
ous and  ever-changing  army  of  his. 

If,  he  said,  there  are  sacred  treasures  in  the  city,  he  will 
spend  them  as  far  as  they  go  ;  that  is  obvious.  And  he  will 
then  be  able  to  diminish  the  taxes  which  he  would  otherwise 
have  to  impose. 

And  when  these  fail  ? 

Why,  clearly,  he  said,  then  he  and  his  boon  companions, 
whether  male  or  female,  will  be  maintained  out  of  his  father's 
estate. 

I  see  your  meaning,  I  said.  You  mean  that  the  people  who 
begat  him  will  maintain  him  and  his  companions  ? 


372  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Yes,  he  said  ;  he  cannot  get  on  without  that. 

But  what  if  the  people  go  into  a  passion,  and  aver  that  a 
grown-up  son  ought  not  to  be  supported  by  his  father,  but  that 
6  the  father  should  be  supported  by  the  son  ?  He  did  not 
bring  his  son  into  the  world  and  establish  him  in  or- 
der that  when  he  was  grown  up  he  himself  might  serve  his 
own  servants,  and  maintain  him  and  his  rabble  of  slaves  and 
companions  ;  but  that,  having  such  a  protector,  he  might  be 
emancipated  from  the  government  of  the  rich  and  aristocratic, 
as  they  are  termed.  And  now,  here  is  this  son  of  his,  bidding 
him  and  his  companions  pack,  just  as  a  father  might  drive  out 
of  his  house  a  riotous  son  and  his  party  of  revelers. 

In  the  end,  he  said,  the  parent  will  be  certain  to  discover 
what  a  monster  he  has  been  fostering  in  his  bosom  ;  and  when 
he  wants  to  drive  him  out,  he  will  find  that  he  is  weak  and 
his  son  strong. 

Why,  you  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  tyrant  will  use  vio- 
lence ?     What  !   beat  his  father  if  he  resists  ? 

Yes,  he  will ;  and  he  will  begin  by  taking  away  his  arms. 

Then  he  is  a  parricide,  and  a  cruel  unnatural  son  to  an 
aged  parent  whom  he  ought  to  cherish  ;  and  this  is  real  tyr- 
anny, about  which  there  is  no  mistake  :  as  the  saying  is,  the 
people  who  would  avoid  the  slavery  of  freemen,  which  is 
smoke  and  appearance,  has  fallen  under  the  tyranny  of  slaves, 
which  is  fire.  Thus  liberty,  getting  out  of  all  order  and  rea- 
son, passes  into  the  harshest  and  bitterest  form  of  slavery. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  true. 

Very  well,  I  said  ;  and  may  we  not  say  that  we  have  dis- 
cussed enough  the  nature  of  tyranny,  and  the  manner  of  the 
transition  from  democracy  to  tyranny  ? 

Yes,  quite  enough,  he  said. 


THE  REPUBLIC  375 


BOOK  IX 

Last  of  all  comes  the  tyrannical  man  ;  about  whom  we 
have  once  more  to  ask  how  is  he  formed  out  of  the 
democratical  ?  and  how  does  he  live,  in  happiness  or  in 
misery  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  he  is  the  only  one  remaining. 

There  is,  however,  I  said,  a  previous  question  which  I  should 
like  to  consider. 

What  is  that  ? 

I  do  not  think  that  we  have  adequately  determined  the  nat- 
ure and  number  of  the  appetites,  and  until  this  is  accomplished 
the  inquiry  will  always  be  perplexed. 

Well,  but  you  may  supply  the  omission. 

Very  true,  I  said ;  and  observe  the  point  which  I  want  to 
understand.  Certain  of  the  unnecessary  pleasures  and  appe- 
tites are  deemed  to  be  unlawful ;  every  man  appears  to  have 
them,  only  in  some  persons  they  are  controlled  by  the  laws  and 
by  reason,  and  the  better  desires  prevail  over  them,  and  either 
they  are  wholly  banished  or  are  few  and  weak  :  while  in  the 
case  of  others  they  are  stronger,  and  there  are  more  of  them. 

Which  appetites  do  you  mean  ? 

I  mean  those  which  are  awake  when  the  reasoning  and  tam- 
ing and  ruling  power  is  asleep  ;  the  wild  beast  in  our  nature, 
gorged  with  meat  or  drink,  starts  up  and  walks  about  naked, 
and  surfeits  after  his  manner,  and  there  is  no  conceivable  folly 
or  crime,  however  shameless  or  unnatural — not  excepting  in- 
cest or  parricide,  or  the  eating  of  forbidden  food — of  which 
such  a  nature  may  not  be  guilty. 

That  is  most  true,  he  said. 

But  when  a  man's  pulse  is  healthy  and  temperate,  and  he 
goes  to  sleep  cool  and  rational,  after  having  supped  on  a  feast 
of  reason  and  speculation,  and  come  to  a  knowledge  of  himself, 
having  indulged  appetites  neither  too  much  nor  too  little,  but 
just  enough  to  lay  them  to  sleep,  and  prevent  them  and  their 
enjoyments  and  pains  from  interfering  with  the  higher 
principle — leaving  that  in  the  solitude  of  pure  abstrac- 
tion, free  to  contemplate  and  aspire  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
unknown,  whether  in  past,  present,  or  future:   when,  again, 


,-X)  THE  TEACHER 
372 

fy  /he  has  allayed  the  passionate  element,  if 

°^  yftnst  any  one — I  say,  when,  after  pacifying 

>rinciples,  he  rouses  up  the  third  or  rational 

takes  his  rest,  then,  as  you  know,  he  attains 

V,  and  is  least  likely  to  be  the  sport  of  fanciful 

fions. 

fnion  I  entirely  agree. 

this  I  have  been  running  into  a  digression  ;  but 
the  po-  y^hich  I  desire  to  note  is  that  in  all  of  us,  even  in 
good  men,  there  is  such  a  latent  wild-beast  nature,  which  peers 
out  in  sleep.  Pray,  consider  whether  I  am  right,  and  you 
agree  with  me  in  this  view. 
Yes,  I  agree. 

Remember  then  the  character  which  we  assigned  to  the  dem- 
ocratic man.  He  was  supposed  from  his  youth  upwards  to 
have  been  trained  under  a  miserly  parent,  and  to  have  encour- 
aged the  saving  appetites,  and  discountenanced  the  lighter  and 
more  ornamental  ones  ? 
True. 

And  then  he  got  into  the  company  of  a  more  refined,  licen- 
tious sort  of  people,  and  he  took  to  wantonness,  and  began  to 
have  a  dislike  of  his  father's  narrow  ways.  At  last,  being  a 
better  man  than  his  corruptors,  he  came  to  a  mean,  and  led  a 
life,  not  of  lawless  and  slavish  passion,  but  of  regular  and  suc- 
cessive indulgence.  That  was  our  view  of  the  way  in  which 
the  democrat  was  generated  out  of  the  oligarch  ? 
Yes,  he  said  ;  and  that  is  still  our  view. 
And  now,  I  said,  years  will  have  passed  away,  and  you  must 
imagine  this  man,  such  as  he  is,  to  have  a  son,  who  is  brought 
up  in  his  father's  principles ;  and  then  further  imagine  the 
same  thing  to  happen  to  the  son  which  has  already  happened 
to  the  father — he  is  seduced  into  a  perfectly  lawless  life,  which 
is  termed  perfect  liberty ;  and  his  father  and  friends  take  part 
with  his  moderate  desires,  while  others  assist  the  opposite  ones. 
At  length,  these  dire  magicians  and  tyrant-makers  begin  to 
fear  that  they  will  be  unable  to  hold  the  youth,  and  then  they 
contrive  to  implant  in  him  a  master  passion,  to  be  lord  over 
his  idle  and  spendthrift  desires — like  a  monster  drone 
having  wings.  That  is  the  only  image  which  will  de- 
pict him  and  his  lusts. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  best,  the  only  image  of  him. 


THE   REPUBLIC  375 

And  while  the  other  lusts  amid  clouds  of  incense  and  per- 
fumes and  garlands  and  wines,  and  all  the  dissoluteness  of  so- 
cial life  are  buzzing  around  him  and  flattering  him  to  the 
utmost,  there  is  implanted  in  him  the  sting  of  desire,  and 
then  this  lord  of  the  soul  is  in  a  frenzy — madness  is  the  cap- 
tain of  the  guard  — and  if  he  discerns  in  his  soul  any  opin- 
ions or  appetites  which  may  be  regarded  as  good,  and  which 
have  any  sense  of  shame  remaining,  he  puts  an  end  to  them, 
and  casts  them  forth  until  he  has  purged  away  temperance 
and  brought  in  madness  to  the  full. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  the  way  in  which  the  tyrannical  man  is 
generated. 

And  is  not  this  the  reason  why  of  old  love  has  been  called  a 
tyrant  ? 

Yes,  perhaps. 

Further,  I  said,  has  not  a  drunken  man  also  the  spirit  of  a 
tyrant  ? 

True. 

And  you  know  that  a  man  who  is  deranged  and  not  right  in 
his  mind,  will  fancy  that  he  is  able  to  rule,  not  only  overmen, 
but  also  over  the  gods  ? 

True. 

And  the  tyrannical  man  comes  into  being  just  at  that  point 
when  either  under  the  influence  of  nature,  or  habit,  or  both, 
he  becomes  drunken,  lustful,  passionate  ? 

Exactly. 

Such  is  the  man  and  such  is  his  origin.  And  next,  how 
does  he  live  ? 

That,  as  people  facetiously  say,  you  may  as  well  tell  me. 

I  imagine,  I  said,  as  the  next  step  in  his  progress,  that  there 
will  be  feasts  and  carousals  and  revellings,  and  courtesans,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing  ;  love  is  the  lord  of  the  house  within  him, 
who  orders  all  the  concerns  of  the  soul. 

That  is  certain. 

Yes  ;  and  every  day  and  every  night  desires  grow  up  many 
and  formidable,  and  their  demands  are  many. 

They  are  indeed,  he  said. 

His  revenues,  if  he  has  any,  are  soon  spent. 

True. 

Then  he  borrows  money,  and  his  estate  is  taken  from  him. 

Of  course. 


376  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

When  he  has  nothing  left,  must  not  his  desires,  crowding 
in  the  nest  like  young  ravens,  be  crying  aloud  for  food  ;  he, 
goaded  on  by  them,  and  especially  by  love  himself  on 
574  whom  they  dance  attendance,  is  at  his  wits'  end  to  dis- 
cover whom  he  can  defraud  or  despoil  of  his  property,  in  order 
that  he  may  gratify  them  ? 

Yes,  that  is  sure  to  be  the  case. 

He  must  have  money,  and  no  matter  how,  if  he  is  to  escape 
horrid  pangs  and  pains. 

He  must. 

And  as  in  himself  there  was  a  succession  of  pleasures,  and 
the  new  got  the  better  of  the  old  and  took  away  their  rights, 
so  he  being  younger  will  claim  to  have  more  than  his  father 
and  his  mother,  and  if  he  has  spent  his  own  property,  he  will 
take  a  slice  out  of  theirs. 

No  doubt  of  that. 

And  if  his  parents  will  not  suffer  this,  then  he  will  try  to 
cheat  and  deceive  them. 

Very  true. 

And  if  he  cannot,  then  he  will  plunder  and  force  them. 

Yes,  probably. 

And  if  the  old  man  and  the  old  woman  hold  out  against 
him,  will  he  be  very  careful  of  doing  anything  which  is  tyran- 
nical ? 

Nay,  he  said,  I  should  not  feel  at  all  comfortable  about  his 
parents. 

But,  O  heavens  !  Adeimantus,  on  account  of  some  new- 
fangled love  of  a  harlot,  who  is  anything  but  a  necessary  con- 
nection, can  you  believe  that  he  would  strike  the  mother  who 
is  his  ancient  friend  and  necessary  to  his  very  existence,  and 
would  place  her  under  the  authority  of  the  other,  when  she  is 
brought  under  the  same  roof  with  her  ;  or  that,  under  like  cir- 
cumstances, he  would  do  the  same  to  his  withered  old  father, 
first  and  most  indispensable  of  friends,  for  the  sake  of  some 
blooming  love  of  a  youth  who  is  the  reverse  of  indispensable  ? 

Yes,  indeed,  he  said  ;  I  believe  that  he  would. 

Truly,  then,  I  said,  a  tyrannical  son  is  a  blessing  to  his 
father  and  mother. 

Yes,  indeed,  he  replied. 

He  first  takes  their  property,  and  when  that  fails,  and  pleas- 
ures are  beginning  to  swarm  in  the  hive  of  his  soul,  then  he 


THE  REPUBLIC  377 

breaks  into  a  house,  or  steals  the  garments  of  some  nightly  way- 
farer, and  the  next  thing  is  that  he  lifts  a  temple ;  and  while  all 
this  is  going  on,  the  old  opinions  about  good  and  evil  which  he 
had  when  a  child,  and  which  were  thought  by  him  to  be  right, 
are  overthrown  by  those  others  which  have  just  been  emanci- 
pated, and  are  now  the  guard  and  associates  of  love,  being  those 
which  in  former  days,  when  he  was  a  partisan  of  democracy  and 
subject  to  the  laws  and  to  his  father,  were  only  let  loose  in  the 
dreams  of  sleep.  But  now  that  he  is  under  the  tyranny  of  love, 
he  becomes  always  and  in  waking  reality  what  he  was  then 
very  rarely  and  in  a  dream  only ;  he  will  commit  the  foulest 
murder,  or  eat  forbidden  food,  or  be  guilty  of  any  other  horrid 
act.  Love  is  his  tyrant,  and  lives  lordly  in  him,  and  being 
himself  a  king  emancipated  from  all  control,  he  leads  him  57 
on — like  man  like  State — into  the  performance  of  reckless 
deeds  in  order  to  maintain  himself  and  his  rabble,  which  evil 
communications  have  brought  in  from  without,  or  which  he 
himself  has  allowed  to  break  loose  within  him  by  reason  of  a 
similar  character  in  himself.  Is  not  this  a  picture  of  his  way 
of  life? 

Yes,  indeed,  he  said. 

And  if  there  are  only  a  few  of  them,  and  the  rest  of  the  peo- 
ple are  well  disposed,  they  go  away  and  become  the  body- 
guard or  mercenary  soldiers  of  some  other  tyrant  who  may 
probably  want  the'ii  for  a  war ;  and  if  there  is  no  war,  they 
stay  at  home  and  do  mischief  in  the  city. 

What  sort  of  mischief? 

For  example,  they  are  the  thieves,  burglars,  cutpurses,  foot- 
pads, robbers  of  temples,  man-stealers  of  the  community,  and 
if  they  are  able  to  speak  they  play  the  part  of  informers,  and 
bear  false  witness,  and  take  bribes. 

And  these,  he  replied,  are  not  very  small  evils,  even  if  the 
perpetrators  of  them  are  a  few  in  number. 

Yes,  I  said  ;  but  small  and  great  are  comparative  terms,  and 
all  these  things,  in  the  misery  and  evil  which  they  inflict  upon 
a  State,  do  not  come  within  a  thousand  miles  of  the  tyrant : 
the  people  are  fools,  and  this  class  and  their  followers  grow  nu- 
merous and  are  aware  of  their  numbers,  and  they  take  him  who 
has  most  of  the  tyrant  in  his  soul,  and  make  him  their  leader. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  natural ;  for  he  will  be  the  most  tyran- 
nically disposed. 


378  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

If  the  people  yield,  well  and  good ;  but  if  they  resist  him, 
as  he  began  by  beating  his  own  father  and  mother,  so  now,  if 
he  has  the  power,  he  beats  his  dear  old  fatherland  and  mother- 
land, as  the  Cretans  say,  and  brings  in  his  young  retainers  to 
be  their  rulers  and  masters.  And  this  is  the  end  of  his  passions 
and  desires. 

Exactly. 

Even  in  early  days  and  before  they  get  power,  this  is  the 
way  of  them ;  they  associate  only  with  their  own  flatterers  or 
ready  tools ;  or,  if  they  want  anything  from  anybody,  they 

,  themselves  are  equally  ready  to  fall  down  before  them  ; 
there  is  no  attitude  into  which  they  will  not  throw  them- 
selves, but  when  they  have  gained  their  point  they  know  them 
no  more. 

Yes,  truly. 

They  are  always  either  the  masters  or  servants  and  never 
the  friends  of  anybody ;  the  tyrant  never  tastes  of  true  free- 
dom or  true  friendship. 

Certainly  not. 

And  may  we  not  call  such  men  treacherous  ? 

No  question. 

Also  they  are  utterly  unjust,  if  we  were  right  in  our  notion 
of  justice? 

Yes,  he  said,  and  in  that  we  were  perfectly  right. 

Let  us  then  sum  up  in  a  word,  I  said,  the  character  of  the 
worst  man  :   he  is  the  waking  reality  of  what  we  dreamed. 

Most  true. 

And  this  is  he  who  being  most  of  a  tyrant  by  nature  bears 
rule,  and  the  longer  he  lives  the  more  of  a  tyrant  he  becomes. 

That  is  certain,  said  Glaucon,  taking  his  turn  to  answer. 

And  will  not  he  who  has  been  shown  to  be  the  wickedest, 
be  also  the  most  miserable?  and  he  most  of  all  and  longest 
of  all  who  has  tyrannized  longest  and  most,  and  is  most  of  a 
tyrant — although  this  may  not  be  the  opinion  of  men  in  general? 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  inevitable. 

And  must  not  the  tyrannical  man  be  like  the  tyrannical 
State,  and  the  democratical  man  like  the  democratical  State ; 
and  the  same  of  the  others  ? 

Certainly 

And  as  State  is  to  State  in  virtue  and  happiness,  man  is  to 
man? 


THE  REPUBLIC  379 

To  be  sure. 

Then  comparing  the  former  city  which  was  under  a  king  and 
the  city  which  was  under  a  tyrant,  how  do  they  stand  as  to 
virtue? 

They  are  the  opposite  extremes,  he  said,  for  one  is  the  very 
best  and  the  other  is  the  very  worst. 

There  can  be  no  mistake,  I  said,  as  to  which  is  which,  and 
therefore  I  will  at  once  inquire  whether  you  would  arrive  at  a 
similar  decision  about  their  relative  happiness  and  misery. 
And  here  we  must  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  panic-stricken  at 
the  apparition  of  the  tyrant,  who  is  only  a  unit  and  may  per- 
haps have  a  few  retainers  about  him  ;  but  let  us  go  as  we 
ought  and  view  the  whole  city  and  look  all  around,  and  then 
we  will  give  our  opinion. 

A  fair  invitation,  he  replied ;  and  I  see,  as  every  one  must, 
that  a  tyranny  is  the  wretchedest  form  of  government,  and 
monarchy  the  happiest. 

And  may  I  not  fairly  ask  in  like  manner  to  have  a  judge  of 
the  men  whose  mind  can  enter  into  and  see  through  human 
nature  ;  he  must  not  be  a  child  who  looks  at  the  outside  and 
is  dazzled  at  the  pompous  aspect  which  tyranny  assumes 
to  the  beholder,  but  let  him  be  one  who  has  a  clear  in-  77 
sight.  May  I  suppose  that  the  judgment  is  given  in  the  hear- 
ing of  us  all  by  one  who  is  able  to  judge,  and  has  dwelt  in  the 
same  place  with  him,  and  been  present  at  his  daily  life  and 
known  him  in  his  family,  in  which  he  is  seen  stripped  of  his 
tragedy  attire,  and  again  in  the  hour  of  public  danger;  he 
shall  tell  us  about  the  happiness  and  misery  of  the  tyrant  when 
compared  with  other  men  ? 

That  again,  he  said,  is  a  very  fair  proposal. 

Let  us  now  assume  this  able  and  experienced  judge  to  be 
ourselves,  and  then  we  shall  have  some  one  who  will  answer 
our  inquiries. 

By  all  means. 

Let  us  ask  you  not  to  forget  the  parallel  of  the  individual 
and  the  State;  bearing  this  in  mind,  and  glancing  in  turn 
from  one  to  the  other  of  them,  will  you  tell  me  their  respective 
conditions  ? 

In  what  points  ?  he  asked. 

Beginning  with  the  State,  I  replied,  would  you  say  that  a 
city  which  is  governed  by  a  tyrant  is  free  or  enslaved  ? 


380  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Nothing,  he  said,  can  be  more  completely  enslaved. 

And  yet,  as  you  see,  there  are  masters  and  there  are  free- 
men in  such  a  State  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  I  see  that  there  are, — a  few ;  but  the  people 
as  a  whole  (speaking  generally)  and  the  best  of  them  are  dis- 
gracefully and  miserably  enslaved. 

Then  if  the  man  is  like  the  State,  I  said,  must  not  the  same 
hold  of  the  man  ?  his  soul  is  full  of  meanness  and  serfdom, — 
the  best  elements  in  him  are  enslaved  ;  and  there  is  a  small 
ruling  part  which  is  also  the  worst  and  maddest. 

That  is  inevitable. 

And  would  you  say  that  the  soul  of  such  an  one  is  the  soul 
of  a  freeman  or  of  a  slave  ? 

He  has  the  soul  of  a  slave,  in  my  judgment. 

And  the  State  which  is  enslaved  under  a  tyrant  is  very  far 
from  acting  voluntarily  ? 

Very  far,  indeed. 

And  also  the  soul  which  is  under  a  tyrant  (I  am  speaking 
of  the  soul  taken  as  a  whole)  is  very  far  from  doing  as  she 
desires ;  there  is  a  gadfly  which  goads  her,  and  she  is  full  of 
trouble  and  remorse? 

Certainly. 

And  is  the  city  which  is  under  a  tyrant  rich  or  poor  ? 

Poor. 

And  the  tyrannical  soul  must  be  always  poor  and  insatiable  ? 
-78        True. 

And  must  not  such  a  State  and  such  a  man  be  always 
full  of  fear  ? 

Yes,  indeed. 

Is  there  any  State  in  which  you  will  find  more  of  lamenta- 
tion and  sorrow  and  groaning  and  pain  ? 

Certainly  not. 

And  is  there  any  man  in  whom  you  will  find  more  misery 
of  the  same  kind  than  in  the  tyrannical  man,  who  is  in  a  fury 
of  passions  and  desires  ? 

Impossible. 

Reflecting  then  upon  these  and  similar  evils,  you  held  the 
tyrannical  State  to  be  the  most  miserable  of  States? 

And  I  was  right,  he  said. 

Certainly,  I  said.  And  when  you  see  the  same  evils  in  the 
tyrannical  man,  what  do  you  say  of  him? 


THE  REPUBLIC  38 1 

I  say  that  he  is  by  far  the  most  miserable  of  all  men. 

There,  I  said,  I  think  that  you  are  wrong. 

How  is  that  ?  he  said. 

I  do  not  think  that  he  has  as  yet  reached  the  utmost  extreme 
of  misery. 

Then  who  is  more  miserable? 

One  of  whom  I  am  about  to  speak. 

Who  is  that  ? 

He  who  is  of  a  tyrannical  nature,  and  instead  of  leading  a 
private  life  is  cursed  with  the  further  misfortune  of  being  a  pub- 
lic tyrant. 

I  should  conjecture  from  the  previous  remarks  that  you  are 
right, 

Yes,  I  said ;  but  in  this  high  argument  of  good  and  evil  you 
should  not  conjecture  only — you  should  have  a  certainty. 

That  is  very  true,  he  said. 

Let  me  then  offer  you  an  illustration,  which  may,  I  think, 
have  an  application  to  this  subject. 

What  is  your  illustration  ? 

The  case  of  rich  individuals  in  cities  who  possess  many 
slaves :  from  them  you  may  form  an  idea  of  the  tyrant's  State, 
for  they  both  have  slaves  j  the  only  difference  is  that  he  has 
more  slaves. 

Yes,  that  is  the  difference. 

You  know  that  they  live  securely  and  have  no  fear  of  their 
servants  ? 

What  should  they  fear  ? 

Nothing.     But  do  you  observe  the  reason  of  this  ? 

Yes;  the  reason  is,  that  the  whole  city  is  leagued  together  for 
the  protection  of  each  individual. 

That  is  quite  true,  I  said.  But  imagine  that  one  of  these 
owners  is  carried  off  by  a  god  into  the  wilderness,  where  there 
are  no  freemen  to  help  him — he  and  his  household,  and  he  is 
the  master  say  of  about  fifty  slaves — will  he  not  be  in  an  agony 
of  apprehension  lest  he  and  his  wife  and  children  should  be  put 
to  death  by  his  slaves  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  he  will  be  in  the  utmost  alarm. 

Will  he  not  be  compelled  to  flatter  divers  of  his  slaves, 
and  make  many  promises  to  them  of  freedom  and  other  things 
much  against  his  will? — he  will  become  the  servant  of  his 
servants. 


382  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Yes,  he  said,  that  will  be  the  only  way  of  saving  his  life. 

And  suppose  that  the  same  god  who  carries  him  off  puts  him 
down  among  neighbors  who  will  not  allow  a  man  to  be  the 
master  of  another,  and,  if  they  catch  him,  are  ready  to  inflict 
capital  punishment  upon  him  ? 

Then  his  case  will  be  even  worse,  he  said,  when  he  is  sur- 
rounded and  watched  by  enemies. 

And  is  not  this  the  sort  of  prison  in  which  the  tyrant  will  be 
bound? — he  being  by  nature  such  as  we  have  described,  is  full 
of  all  sorts  of  fears  and  lusts.  His  soul  is  dainty  and  greedy, 
and  yet  he  only,  of  all  men,  is  never  allowed  to  go  on  a  jour- 
ney, or  to  see  the  things  which  other  freemen  desire  to  see,  but 
he  lives  in  his  hole  like  a  woman  hidden  in  the  house,  and  is 
jealous  of  any  other  citizen  who  goes  into  foreign  parts  and 
sees  anything  of  interest. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Such  being  his  evil  condition,  am  I  not  right  in  saying  that 
the  tyrannical  man,  ill-governed  in  his  own  person,  whom  you 
just  now  described  as  the  most  miserable  of  all,  will  be  yet 
more  miserable  in  a  public  station,  when,  instead  of  leading  a 
private  life,  he  is  constrained  by  fortune  to  be  a  tyrant  ?  He 
has  to  be  master  of  others  when  he  is  not  master  of  himself : 
he  is  like  a  diseased  or  paralytic  man  who  is  compelled  to  pass 
his  life,  not  in  retirement,  but  fighting  and  combating  with 
other  men. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  very  true,  and  the  similitude  is  most 
exact. 

Is  not  his  case  utterly  miserable  ?  and  does  not  the  actual 
tyrant  lead  a  worse  life  than  him  whom  you  determined  to  be 
worst  ? 

Certainly. 

He  who  is  the  real  tyrant,  whatever  men  may  think,  is  the 
real  slave,  and  is  obliged  to  practice  the  greatest  adulation  and 
servility,  and  to  be  the  flatterer  of  the  vilest  of  mankind.  He 
has  desires  which  he  is  utterly  unable  to  satisfy,  and  has  more 
wants  than  any  one,  and  is  truly  poor,  if  you  know  how  to  in- 
spect the  whole  soul  of  him  :  all  his  life  long  he  is  beset  with 
~  fear  and  is  full  of  convulsions  and  distractions,  even  as 
the  State  which  he  resembles;  and  surely  the  resem- 
blance holds  ? 

True,  he  said. 


THE   REPUBLIC  383 

Moreover,  as  we  were  saying,  he  grows  worse  from  having 
power :  he  becomes  of  necessity  more  jealous,  more  faithless, 
more  unjust,  more  friendless,  more  impious  ;  he  entertains  and 
nurtures  every  evil  sentiment,  and  the  consequence  is  that  he  is 
supremely  miserable,  and  thus  he  makes  everybody  else  equally 
miserable. 

No  man  of  any  sense  will  dispute  that. 

Come  then,  I  said,  and  as  the  umpire  gives  sentence  in  the 
games,  do  you  also  decide  who  in  your  opinion  is  first  in  the 
scale  of  happiness,  and  who  second,  and  in  what  order  the 
others  follow  :  there  are  five  of  them  in  all — they  are  the  royal, 
timocratical,  oligarchical,  democratical,  tyrannical. 

The  judgment  will  be  easily  given,  he  replied ;  they  shall 
be  choruses  entering  on  the  stage,  and  I  will  decide  the  place 
of  each  of  them  by  the  criterion  of  virtue  and  vice,  happiness 
and  misery. 

Need  we  hire  a  herald,  or  shall  I  proclaim  the  result — that 
the  son  of  the  best  (Ariston)1  is  of  opinion  that  the  best  and 
justest  man  is  also  the  happiest,  and  that  this  is  he  who  is  the 
most  royal  master  of  himself;  and  that  the  worst  and  most  un- 
just man  is  also  the  most  miserable,  and  that  this  is  he  who  is 
the  greatest  tyrant  of  himself  and  of  his  State  ? 

Make  the  proclamation,  he  said. 

And  shall  I  proclaim  further,  <  <  whether  seen  or  unseen  by 
gods  and  men  ?  ' ' 

Yes,  he  said,  you  had  better  add  that. 

Then  this,  I  said,  will  be  the  first  proof;  and  there  is  an- 
other, which  may  also  have  some  weight. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  second  proof  is  derived  from  the  nature  of  the  soul, 
seeing  that  the  individual  soul,  like  the  State,  has  been  divided 
by  us  into  three  principles,2  the  division  may  furnish  a  new 
demonstration. 

Of  what  nature  ? 

There  are  three  pleasures  which  correspond  to  the  three 
principles,  and  also  three  desires  and  governing  powers. 

How  do  you  mean  ?  he  said. 

There  is  one  principle  with  which  a  man  learns,  another 

1  Glaucon,  to  whom  Socrates  was  talking,  was  the  son  of  Ariston.  Ariston 
means  literally  best. 
a  See  Book  IV.,  435-442. 


384  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

with  which  he  is  angry ;  the  third,  having  many  forms,  has  no 
single  name,  but  is  termed  appetitive,  from  the  extraordinary 
strength  and  vehemence  of  the  pleasures  of  eating  and  drinking 
„  and  the  other  sensual  appetites  ;  also  money  loving,  be- 
cause  this  sort  of  desires  can  only  be  gratified  by  the 
help  of  money. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

If  we  were  to  say  that  the  loves  and  pleasures  of  this  third 
part  of  the  soul  were  concerned  with  gain,  we  should  then  be 
able  to  fall  back  on  a  single  class ;  and  might  truly  describe 
this  part  of  the  soul  as  loving  gain  or  money. 

Yes,  I  should  say  that. 

Again,  is  not  the  passionate  element  wholly  set  on  ruling 
and  conquering  and  getting  fame? 

True. 

Suppose  we  call  that  contentious  or  ambitious — would  the 
term  be  suitable  ? 

Extremely  suitable. 

On  the  other  hand,  every  one  sees  that  the  principle  of 
knowledge  is  wholly  directed  to  the  truth,  and  cares  less  than 
any  of  the  others  for  gain  or  fame  ? 

Far  less. 

"  True  lover  of  wisdom,"  "  lover  of  knowledge,"  are  titles 
which  are  rightly  applicable  to  that  part  of  the  soul  ? 

Certainly. 

One  principle  prevails  in  the  souls  of  one  class  of  men,  an- 
other in  others,  just  as  may  happen  ? 

Yes. 

Then  we  may  assume  that  there  are  three  classes  of  men — 
lovers  of  wisdom,  lovers  of  ambition,  lovers  of  gain? 

Exactly. 

And  there  are  three  kinds  of  pleasures,  which  are  their 
several  objects  ? 

Very  true. 

Now,  if  you  examine  the  three  classes,  and  ask  of  them  in 
turn  which  of  their  lives  is  pleasantest,  each  of  them  will  be 
found  praising  his  own  and  depreciating  that  of  others :  the 
money-maker  will  contrast  the  vanity  of  honor  or  of  learning 
with  the  solid  advantages  of  gold  and  silver? 

True,  he  said. 

And  the  lover  of  honor — what  will  be  his  opinion  ?     Will 


THE   REPUBLIC  385 

he  not  think  that  the  pleasure  of  riches  is  vulgar,  while  the 
pleasure  of  learning,  which  has  no  meed  of  honor,  he  regards 
as  all  smoke  and  nonsense  ? 

True,  he  said. 

But  may  we  not  suppose,  I  said,  that  philosophy  estimates 
other  pleasures  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  pleasure  of 
knowing  the  truth,  and  in  that  abiding,  ever  learning,  in  the 
pursuit  of  truth,  not  far  indeed  from  the  heaven  of  pleasure  ? 
The  other  pleasures  the  philosopher  disparages  by  calling  them 
necessary,  meaning  that  if  there  were  no  necessity  for  them, 
he  would  not  have  them. 

There  ought  to  be  no  doubt  about  that,  he  replied. 

Since,  then,  the  pleasures  of  each  class  and  the  life  of  each 
are  in  dispute,  and  the  question  is  not  which  life  is  more  or 
less  honorable,  or  better  or  worse,  but  which  is  the  more       ~ 
pleasant  or  painless — how  shall  we  know  ? 

I  cannot  tell,  he  said. 

Well,  but  what  ought  to  be  the  criterion  ?  Is  any  better 
than  experience  and  wisdom  and  reason  ? 

There  cannot  be  a  better,  he  said. 

Then,  I  said,  reflect.  Of  the  three  individuals,  which  has 
the  greatest  experience  of  all  the  pleasures  which  we  enumer- 
ated ?  Has  the  lover  of  gain  greater  experience  of  the  pleas- 
ure of  knowledge  derived  from  learning  the  nature  of  the  truth 
than  the  philosopher  has  of  the  pleasure  of  gain  ? 

The  philosopher,  he  replied,  has  greatly  the  advantage  ;  for 
he  has  always  known  the  taste  of  the  other  pleasures  from  his 
youth  upwards  :  but  the  lover  of  gain  in  all  his  experience  has 
not  of  necessity  tasted — or,  I  should  rather  say,  could  hardly 
have  tasted  by  any  process  of  learning  the  nature  of  things — 
the  sweetness  of  intellectual  pleasures. 

Then  the  lover  of  wisdom  has  a  great  advantage  over  the 
lover  of  gain,  for  he  has  a  double  experience  ? 

Very  great  indeed. 

Again,  has  the  philosopher  greater  experience  of  the  pleas- 
ures of  honor,  or  the  lover  of  honor  of  the  pleasures  of  knowl- 
edge ? 

Nay,  he  said,  they  are  all  honored  in  proportion  as  they 
attain  their  object ;  for  the  rich  man  and  the  brave  man  and 
the  wise  man  alike  have  their  crowd  of  worshippers,  and  as 
they  all  receive  honor  they  all  have  experience  of  the  pleas- 

25 


386  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

ures  of  honor,  but  the  delight  which  is  to  be  found  in 
the  knowledge  of  true  being  is  known  to  the  philosopher 
only. 

His  experience,  then,  will  enable  him  to  judge  better  than 
any  one  ? 

Far  better. 

And  he  is  the  only  one  who  has  wisdom  as  well  as  experi- 
ence? 

Certainly. 

The  very  faculty  which  is  the  instrument  of  judgment  is  not 
possessed  by  the  covetous  or  avaricious  man,  but  only  by  the 
philosopher  ? 

What  faculty  ? 

Reason,  which,  as  we  were  saying,  ought  to  have  the  de- 
cision. 

Yes. 

And  reasoning  is  peculiarly  his  instrument  ? 

Certainly. 

If  wealth  and  gain  were  the  criterion,  then  what  the  lover 
of  gain  praised  and  blamed  would  surely  be  truest  ? 

Assuredly. 

Or  if  honor  or  victory  or  courage,  in  that  case  the  ambi- 
tious or  contentious  would  decide  best  ? 

Clearly. 

But  since  experience  and  wisdom  and  reason  are  the  judges, 

the  inference  of  course  is,  that  the  truest  pleasures  are  those 

which  are  approved  by  the  lover  of  wisdom  and  reason.     And 

„      so  we  arrive  at  the  result,  that  the  pleasure  of  the  intel- 

o      ligent  part  of  the  soul  is  the  pleasantest  of  the  three,  and 

that  he  in  whom  this  is  the  ruling  principle   has  the 

pleasantest  life? 

Unquestionably,  he  said,  the  wise  man  has  the  fullest  right 
to  approve  of  his  own  life. 

And  what  does  the  judge  affirm  to  be  the  life  which  is  next, 
and  the  pleasure  which  is  next  ? 

Clearly  that  of  the  soldier  and  lover  of  honor  :  that  is 
nearer  to  himself  than  that  of  the  trader. 

Last  comes  the  lover  of  gain. 

Very  true,  he  said. 

Twice,  then,  has  the  just  man  overthrown  the  unjust ;  and 
now  comes  the  third  trial,  which  is  sacred  to  the  Olympic 


THE  REPUBLIC  387 

saviour  Zeus 8 :  a  sage  whispers  in  my  ear  that  no  pleasure 
except  that  of  the  wise  is  quite  true  and  pure — all  others  are  a 
shadow  only ;  and  this  will  surely  prove  the  greatest  and  most 
decisive  of  falls  ? 

Yes,  the  greatest ;  but  will  you  explain  how  this  is  ? 

[Socrates  leads  a  discussion  intended  to  prove  that  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  sensual  and  also  of  the  spirited  part  of  man's  nature 
are  less  real  and  less  satisfying  than  those  of  the  rational  part. 
He  continues  :  ] 

Those  then  who  know  not  wisdom  and  virtue,  and  are 
always  busy  with  gluttony  and  sensuality,  go  down  and  up 
again  as  far  as  the  mean  ;  and  in  this  space  they  move 
at  random  throughout  life,  but  they  never  pass  into  the 
true  upper  world  ;  thither  they  neither  look,  nor  do  they  ever 
find  their  way,  neither  are  they  truly  filled  with  true  being, 
nor  do  they  taste  of  true  and  abiding  pleasure.  Like  brute 
animals,  with  their  eyes  down  and  bodies  bent  to  the  earth  or 
leaning  on  the  dining-table,  they  fatten  and  feed  and  breed, 
and,  in  their  excessive  love  of  these  delights,  they  kick  and 
butt  at  one  another  with  horns  and  hoofs  which  are  made 
of  iron ;  and  they  kill  one  another  by  reason  of  their  insati- 
able lust.  For  they  fill  themselves  with  that  which  is  not  sub- 
stantial, and  the  part  of  themselves  which  they  fill  is  also  un- 
substantial and  incontinent. 

Verily,  Socrates,  said  Glaucon,  you  describe  the  life  of  the 
many  like  an  oracle. 

Their  pleasures  are  mixed  with  pains.  How  can  they  be 
otherwise  ?  For  they  are  mere  images  and  shadows  of  the 
true,  and  are  colored  only  by  contrast,  and  this  way  of  look- 
ing at  them  doubly  exaggerates  them,  and  implants  in  the 
minds  of  fools  insane  desires  of  them  j  and  they  are  fought 
about  as  Stesichorus  says  that  the  Greeks  fought  about  the 
shadow  of  Helen  at  Troy 4  in  ignorance  of  the  truth. 

Yes,  inevitably,  he  said  ;  that  is  the  way. 

3  One  of  the  titles  of  Zeus  was  saviour.  The  third  cup  of  wine  was  dedicated 
to  him.  To  drink  this  cup  came  to  be  a  symbol  of  good  luck,  and  the  third 
time  came  to  mean  the  lucky  time.  In  allusion  to  this  Socrates  says  the 
third  victory  of  the  just  man  should  be  dedicated  to  the  Olympian  saviour. 

4  See  Phaedrus,  note  37.  According  to  Stesichorus,  Paris  did  not  carry 
to  Troy  the  real  Helen,  but  only  a  phantom  of  her  created  by  the  goddess 
Hera  (he'ra),  the  Roman  Juno. 


388  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

And  must  not  the  like  happen  with  the  spirited  or  passion- 
ate element  of  the  soul  ?  Will  not  the  passionate  man  be  in 
the  like  case,  if  he  carries  his  passion  into  act,  either  because 
he  is  envious  and  ambitious,  or  violent  and  contentious,  or 
angry  and  discontented,  and  is  seeking  to  attain  honor  and 
victory  and  the  satisfaction  of  his  anger  without  reason  or 
sense  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  the  same  will  happen  with  the  spirited  element 
also. 

Then  may  we  not  confidently  assert  that  the  lovers  of  money 
and  honor,  when  they  seek  their  pleasures  under  the  guidance 
and  in  the  company  of  reason,  and  pursue  after  and  win  the 
pleasures  which  wisdom  shows  them,  will  also  have  the  truest 
pleasures  in  the  highest  degree  which  is  attainable  to  them,  in- 
asmuch as  they  follow  truth ;  and  they  will  also  have  those 
which  are  natural  to  them,  if  that  which  is  best  to  each  one  is 
also  most  natural  to  him  ? 

Yes,  certainly ;  the  best  is  the  most  natural. 

Then,  when  the  whole  soul  follows  the  philosophical  princi- 
ple, and  there  is  no  division,  the  several  parts  each  of  them 
8  do  their  own  business,  and  are  just,  and  each  of  them 
enjoy  their  own  best  and  truest  pleasures  ? 

Exactly. 

But  when  either  of  the  other  principles  prevails,  it  fails  in 
attaining  its  own  pleasure,  and  compels  the  others  to  pursue 
after  a  shadow  of  pleasure  which  is  not  theirs? 

True. 

And  the  greater  the  interval  which  separates  them  from  phi- 
losophy and  reason,  the  more  strange  and  illusive  will  be  the 
pleasure  ? 

Yes. 

And  that  is  farthest  from  reason  which  is  at  the  greatest  dis- 
tance from  law  and  order. 

Clearly. 

And  the  lustful  and  tyrannical  desires  are  at  the  greatest  dis- 
tance ? 

Yes. 

And  the  royal  and  orderly  desires  are  nearest  ? 

Yes. 

Then  the  tyrant  will  live  most  unpleasantly,  and  the  king 
most  pleasantly? 


THE  REPUBLIC  389 

Yes. 

Would  you  know  the  measure  of  the  interval  between  them  ? 

If  you  will  tell  me. 

There  appear  to  be  three  pleasures,  one  genuine  and  two 
spurious ;  now  the  transgression  of  the  tyrant  reaches  a  point 
beyond  the  spurious  ;  he  has  run  away  from  the  region  of  law 
and  reason,  and  taken  up  his  abode  with  certain  slave  pleasures 
which  are  his  satellites,  and  the  measure  of  his  inferiority  can 
only  be  expressed  in  a  figure. 

[Here  follows  a  curious,  perhaps  humorous,  calculation  to 
prove  that  the  good  king  is  729  times  happier  than  the  tyrant.] 

What  a  wonderful  calculation  !  And  how  enormous  is  the 
interval  which  separates  the  just  from  the  unjust  in  88 
regard  to  pleasure  and  pain  ! 

Yet  a  true  calculation,  I  said,  and  a  number  which  nearly 
concerns  human  life,  if  human  life  is  concerned  with  days  and 
nights  and  months  and  years. 

Yes,  he  said,  human  life  is  certainly  concerned  with  them. 

Then  if  the  good  and  just  man  be  thus  superior  in  pleasure 
to  the  evil  and  unjust,  his  superiority  will  be  infinitely  greater 
in  propriety  of  life  and  in  beauty  and  virtue? 

Immeasurably  greater,  indeed,  he  said. 

Well,  I  said,  and  now  we  have  arrived  at  this  point  I  may 
resume  the  beginning  of  the  argument,  which  arose  out  of 
some  one  saying  that  injustice  was  a  gain  to  the  perfectly  un- 
just who  was  reputed  to  be  just.     Was  not  that  said  ? 

Yes,  that  was  said. 

Come  then,  I  said,  and  now  that  we  have  determined  the 
power  and  quality  of  justice  and  injustice,  let  us  have  a  word 
with  him. 

What  shall  we  say  to  him  ? 

Let  us  make  an  image  of  the  soul,  that  he  may  have  his  own 
words  presented  before  his  eyes. 

What  sort  of  an  image  ? 

An  ideal  image  of  the  soul,  like  the  creations  of  ancient 
mythology,  such  as  the  Chimera5  or  Scylla6  or  Cerberus,7  or 

8  See  Phaedrus,  note  16. 

8  Scylla  (syl'la) :  a  sea-monster,  variously  described,  usually  with  six 
heads,  and  lower  limbs  of  barking  dogs  and  serpents. 

7  Cerberus  (sSr'be-rus),  a  many-headed  dog  with  serpents  about  his  neck, 
stationed  at  the  entrance  to  Hades.  Different  poets  describe  him  differently. 


390  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

any  other  in  which  two  or  more  different  natures  are  said  to 
grow  into  one. 

There  are  said  to  have  been  such  unions. 

Then  do  you  now  model  the  form  of  a  multitudinous,  poly- 
cephalous  8  beast,  having  a  ring  of  heads  of  all  manner  of 
beasts,  tame  and  wild,  which  he  is  able  to  generate  and  met- 
amorphose at  will. 

That,  he  said,  implies  marvelous  powers  in  the  artist ;  but, 
as  language  is  more  pliable  than  wax  or  similar  substances,  I 
have  done  as  you  say. 

Suppose  now  that  you  make  a  second  form  as  of  a  lion,  and 
a  third  of  a  man,  the  second  smaller  than  the  first,  and  the 
third  smaller  than  the  second. 

That,  he  said,  is  an  easier  task ;  and  I  have  made  them  as 
you  say. 

Then  now  join  them,  and  let  the  three  grow  into  one. 

That  has  been  accomplished. 

Now  fashion  the  outside  into  a  single  image,  as  of  a  man, 
so  that  he  who  is  not  able  to  look  within,  and  sees  only  the 
outer  hull  or  vessel,  may  believe  the  beast  to  be  a  single 
human  creature. 

That  is  completed,  he  said. 

And  now  let  us  say  to  him  who  maintains  the  profitable- 
ness of  justice  and  the  unprofitableness  of  injustice,  that  his 
RQ  doctrine  amounts  to  this  :  he  is  asserting  that  his  inter- 
est is  to  feast  and  strengthen  the  lion  and  the  lion-like 
qualities  and  to  starve  and  weaken  the  man ;  who  in  conse- 
quence of  this  is  at  the  mercy  of  either  of  the  other  two,  and 
he  is  not  to  attempt  to  familiarize  or  harmonize  them  with  one 
another :  he  ought  rather  to  suffer  them  to  fight  and  bite  and 
devour  one  another. 

Certainly,  he  said ;  that  is  what  the  approver  of  injustice  says. 

To  him  the  supporter  of  justice  makes  answer  that  he 
ought  rather  to  aim  in  all  he  says  and  does  at  strengthening 
the  man  within  him,  in  order  that  he  may  be  able  to  govern 
the  many-headed  monster.  Like  a  good  husbandman  he 
should  be  watching  and  tending  the  gentle  shoots,  and  pre- 
venting the  wild  ones  from  growing ;  making  a  treaty  with 
the  lion-heart,  and  uniting  the  several  parts  with  one  another 
and  with  themselves. 

8  Many-headed. 


THE    REPUBLIC  391 

Yes,hesaid,  that  is  quite  what  the  maintainer  of  justice  will  say. 

And  in  every  point  of  view,  whether  of  pleasure,  honor,  or 
advantage,  the  approver  of  justice  is  right  and  speaks  the  truth, 
and  the  disapprover  is  wrong,  and  false,  and  ignorant  ? 

Yes,  truly. 

Come,  now,  and  let  us  reason  with  the  unjust,  who  is  not 
intentionally  in  error.  "  Sweet  Sir,"  we  will  say  to  him, 
"  what  think  you  of  the  noble  and  ignoble?  Is  not  the  noble 
that  which  subjects  the  beast  to  the  man,  or  rather  to  the  god 
in  man  ;  and  the  ignoble  that  which  subjects  the  man  to  the 
beast  ?  "     He  can  hardly  avoid  admitting  this, — can  he  now? 

Not  if  he  has  any  regard  for  my  opinion. 

But,  if  he  admit  this,  we  may  ask  him  another  question  : 
How  would  a  man  profit  if  he  received  gold  and  silver  on  the 
condition  that  he  was  to  enslave  the  noblest  part  of  him  to 
the  worst  ?  Who  can  imagine  that  a  man  who  sold  his  son 
or  daughter  into  slavery  for  money,  especially  if  he  sold  them 
into  the  hands  of  fierce  and  evil  men,  would  be  the  gainer,  how- 
ever large  might  be  the  sum  which  he  received  ?  And  will 
any  one  say  that  he  is  not  a  miserable  caitiff  who  sells  his  _ 
own  divine  being  to  that  which  is  most  atheistical  and 
detestable,  and  has  no  pity  ?  Eriphyle  9  took  the  necklace  as 
the  price  of  her  husband's  life,  but  he  is  taking  a  bribe  in 
order  to  compass  a  worse  ruin. 

Yes,  said  Glaucon,  far  worse,  I  will  answer  for  him. 

Is  not  intemperance  censured,  I  said,  because  in  this  con- 
dition that  huge  multiform  monster  is  allowed  to  be  too  much 
at  large? 

Clearly. 

And  pride  and  sullenness  are  blamed,  as  occasioning  the 
growth  and  increase  of  the  lion  and  serpent  element  out  of 
proportion  ? 

Yes. 

And  luxury  and  softness  are  blamed,  because  they  relax  and 
weaken  this  same  element,  and  make  a  man  a  coward  ? 

Very  true. 

9  Eriphyle  (eVi-fy'le)  :  according  to  legend,  the  sister  of  King  Adrastus  of 
Argos,  and  wife  of  Amphiarus,  a  sooth-sayer.  It  was  agreed  that  when 
husband  and  brother  differed  in  opinion,  Eriphyle  should  decide  between 
them.  Once  when  the  question  was  whether  Amphiarus  should  go  to  a  war, 
Eriphyle,  for  the  bribe  of  a  precious  necklace,  decided  that  he  must  go, 
though  she  knew  from  her  husband's  prophecy  that  he  could  not  return  alive. 


392  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

And  is  not  a  man  reproached  for  flattery  and  meanness  who 
subordinates  the  spirited  animal  to  the  unruly  monster,  and, 
for  the  sake  of  money,  of  which  he  can  never  have  enough, 
habituates  him  in  the  days  of  his  youth  to  be  trampled  in  the 
mud,  and  from  being  a  lion  to  become  a  monkey  ? 

True,  he  said. 

And  why  are  vulgarity  and  handicraft  arts  a  reproach? 
Only  because  they  imply  a  natural  weakness  of  the  higher 
principle,  and  the  individual  is  unable  to  control  the  creatures 
within  him,  but  has  to  court  them,  and  his  only  study  is  how 
to  flatter  them  ?  10 

That  appears  to  be  true. 

And,  therefore,  that  he  may  be  under  the  same  rule  as  the 
best,  we  say  that  he  ought  to  be  the  servant  of  the  best ;  not, 
as  Thrasymachus  supposed,  to  the  injury  of  him  who  served, 
but  because  every  one  had  better  be  ruled  by  divine  wisdom 
dwelling  within  him  ;  or,  if  that  be  impossible,  then  by  an 
external  authority,  in  order  that  we  may  be  all,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, under  the  same  government  ? 

True,  he  said. 

And  this  is  clearly  seen  to  be  the  intention  of  the  law, 
which  is  the  ally  of  the  whole  city ;  and  is  seen  also  in  the 
authority  which  is  exerted  over  children,  and  the  refusal 
to  allow  them  to  be  free  until  the  time  when,  as  in  a 
State,  we  have  given  them  a  constitution,  and  by  cultivation 
of  the  higher  element  have  established  in  their  hearts  a  watch- 
man and  ruler  like  our  own,  and  when  this  is  done  they  may 
go  their  ways. 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  a  further  proof. 

In  what  point  of  view,  then,  and  on  what  ground  shall  a 
man  be  profited  by  injustice  or  intemperance  or  other  base- 
ness, even  though  he  acquire  money  or  power  ? 

There  is  no  ground  on  which  this  can  be  maintained  ? 

What  shall  he  profit,  if  his  injustice  be  undetected  ?  for  he 
who  is  undetected  only  gets  worse,  whereas  he  who  is  detected 
and  punished  has  the  brutal  part  of  his  nature  silenced  and 
humanized  ;  the  gentler  element  in  him  is  liberated,  and  his 
whole  soul  is  perfected  and  ennobled  by  the  acquirement  of 
justice  and  temperance  and  wisdom,  more  than  the  body  ever 
is  by  receiving  gifts  of  beauty,  strength,  and  health,  in  pro- 
portion as  the  soul  is  more  honorable  than  the  body. 
»«  See  Book  VI.,  496. 


THE   REPUBLIC  393 

Certainly,  he  said. 

The  man  of  understanding  will  concentrate  himself  on  this 
as  the  work  of  life.  And  in  the  first  place,  he  will  honor 
studies  which  impress  these  qualities  on  his  soul,  and  will  dis- 
regard others  ? 

Clearly,  he  said. 

In  the  next  place,  he  will  keep  under  his  body,  and  so  far 
will  he  be  from  yielding  to  brutal  and  irrational  pleasures,  that 
he  will  regard  even  health  as  quite  a  secondary  matter  ;  his 
first  object  will  be  not  that  he  may  be  fair  or  strong  or  well, 
unless  he  is  likely  thereby  to  gain  temperance,  but  he  will  be 
always  desirous  of  preserving  the  harmony  of  the  body  for  the 
sake  of  the  concord  of  the  soul  ? 

Certainly,  he  replied,  that  he  will,  if  he  has  true  music  in  him. 

And  there  is  a  principle  of  order  and  harmony  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  wealth  ;  this  also  he  will  observe,  and  will  not  allow 
himself  to  be  dazzled  by  the  opinion  of  the  world,  and  heap 
up  riches  to  his  own  infinite  harm  ? 

I  think  not,  he  said. 

He  will  look  at  the  city  which  is  within  him,  and  take  care 
to  avoid  any  change  of  his  own  institutions,  such  as  might 
arise  either  from  abundance  or  from  want  j  and  he  will  duly 
regulate  his  acquisition  and  expense,  in  so  far  as  he  is  able  ? 

Very  true. 

And  for  the  same  reason,  he  will  accept  such  honors 
as  he  deems  likely  to  make  him  a  better  man ;  but  those 
which  are  likely  to  disorder  his  constitution,  whether  private 
or  public  honors,  he  will  avoid  ? 

Then,  if  this  be  his  chief  care,  he  will  not  be  a  politician. 

By  the  dog  of  Egypt,  he  will !  in  the  city  which  is  his  own, 
though  in  his  native  country  perhaps  not,  unless  some  provi- 
dential accident  should  occur. 

I  understand  ;  you  speak  of  that  city  of  which  we  are  the 
founders,  and  which  exists  in  idea  only;  for  I  do  not  think 
that  there  is  such  an  one  anywhere  on  earth  ? 

In  heaven,  I  replied,  there  is  laid  up  a  pattern  of  such  a 
city,  and  he  who  desires  may  behold  this,  and  beholding,  gov- 
ern himself  accordingly.  But  whether  there  really  is  or  ever 
will  be  such  an  one  is  of  no  importance  to  him  ;  for  he  will 
act  according  to  the  laws  of  that  city  and  of  no  other  ? 

True,  he  said. 


394  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 


BOOK    X 


Of  the  many  excellences  which  I  perceive  in  the 
607"  or(^er  °f  our  State,  there  is  none  which  upon  reflection 
pleases  me  better  than  the  rule  about  poetry. 

What  rule  ? 

The  rule  about  rejecting  imitative  poetry,  which  certainly 
ought  not  to  be  received  ;  as  I  see  far  more  clearly  now 
that  the  parts  of  the  soul  have  been  distinguished. 

What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? 

Speaking  in  confidence,  for  I  should  not  like  to  have  my 
words  repeated  to  the  tragedians  and  the  rest  of  the  imitative 
tribe — but  I  do  not  mind  saying  to  you  that  all  poetical  imi- 
tations are  a  sort  of  outrage  on  the  understanding  of  the 
hearers,  and  that  the  only  cure  of  this  is  the  knowledge  of 
their  true  nature. 

Explain  the  purport  of  your  remark. 

Well,  I  will  tell  you :  although  I  have  always  from  my 
earliest  youth  had  an  awe  and  love  of  Homer,  which  even 
now  makes  the  words  falter  on  my  lips,  for  he  is  the  great 
captain  and  teacher  of  all  that  goodly  band  of  Xragic  writers ; 
but  a  man  is  not  to  be  reverenced  before  the  truth,  and  there- 
fore I  will  speak  out. 

Very  good,  he  said. 

Listen  to  me  then,  or  rather,  answer  me. 

Put  your  question. 

Can  you  tell  me  what  imitation  is  ? 

[Glaucon  is  afraid  to  reply  and  Socrates  undertakes  to  ex- 
plain as  follows  : 

There  are  many  beds  in  the  world.  They  are  all  different, 
but  all  conform  to  a  common  plan  or  idea  of  what  a  bed 
should  be.  The  makers  of  the  beds  have  this  idea  in  mind, 
but  they  themselves  do  not  create  the  idea.  The  idea  or  per- 
fect type  is  created  by  God.  The  beds  which  the  carpenter 
makes  are  imperfect  copies  of  the  one  perfect  type.  All  car- 
penters are  therefore  imitators. 

Again,  the  painter  makes  a  picture  of  the  bed.  In  so  do- 
ing he  imitates  not  the  original  bed  or  type  made  by  God, 


THE   REPUBLIC  395 

but  the  imperfect  copy  made  by  the  carpenter.  Moreover  a 
bed  may  be  looked  at  from  many  points  of  view  and  appears 
different  from  each.  The  painter  represents  it  as  it  appears 
from  one  point  only.  To  take  another  instance,  a  painter 
may~paint  a  cobbler  or  a  carpenter,  though  he  knows  nothing 
of  their  arts.  Therefore  we  see  the  art  of  painting  is  an  imi- 
tation of  appearances  and  the  creations  of  the  painter  are  far 
removed  from  reality  or  truth.  In  this  sense  any  one  may 
be  a  creator  who  catches  in  a  mirror  the  reflection  of  the  sun, 
or  earth  or  anything  else. 

The  poets  are  likewise  imitators.  They  write  charmingly 
about  all  the  arts  and  virtues,  but  it  is  impossible  from  the 
very  nature  of  knowledge  for  one  person  to  know  all  these 
things.  Moreover,  any  one  who  is  able  to  make  the  original 
surely  would  not  devote  himself  to  making  copies.  The 
poet  who  had  true  knowledge  of  the  arts  and  virtues,  would 
leave  many  fair  works  as  memorials  of  himself,  instead  of 
singing  the  praises  of  others  who  do  accomplish  these  works. 
Homer,  in  his  poems,  deals  with  politics,  education,  military 
tactics,  and  the  like.  If  he  had  had  a  knowledge  of  his  sub- 
jects, if,  for  example,  he  had  been  a  legislator  or  general,  he 
would  have  made  laws  for  the  better  government  of  some  State 
or  given  his  counsel  in  war.  In  reality,  he  did  no  public 
service  nor  did  he  act  as  guide  and  teacher  to  his  friends.  If 
Homer  or  Hesiod  had  been  able  to  educate  and  improve  man- 
kind, they  would  have  had  many  loving  disciples  who  would 
not  have  allowed  them  to  go  about  begging,  or  else  would 
have  followed  them  about  in  order  to  get  an  education.  Now 
since  none  of  these  good  works  or  good  counsels  may  be  as- 
cribed to  the  poets,  we  may  infer  that  they  all,  beginning  with 
Homer,  have  been  imitators.  As  a  painter  who  understands 
nothing  of  cobbling  may  make  the  likeness  of  a  cobbler,  so 
the  poets,  in  the  color  of  language,  present  images  of  virtue 
and  many  arts  whose  nature  they  understand  only  enough  to 
imitate  them  ;  and  by  the  beauty  of  their  melody  they  deceive 
the  ignorant. 

It  may  indeed  be  shown  that  "imitation  is  concerned  with 
that  which  is  thrice  removed  from  the  truth' '  as  follows: 
The  excellence  or  beauty  of  anything  depends  upon  the  use 
for  which  it  is  intended.  The  user  of  the  flute  alone  knows 
what  are  the  good  and  bad  qualities  of  a  flute,  and  must  in- 


* 


396  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

struct  the  artificer  how  to  make  the  flute.  The  imitator  who 
paints  or  describes  the  flute,  has  neither  the  more  perfect 
knowledge  which  the  user  possesses  nor  the  less  perfect 
knowledge  which  the  artificer  has  gained  from  the  user.  He 
is,  therefore,  as  said,  thrice  removed  from  true  knowledge. 
"  Imitation  is  a  kind  of  sport  or  play,  and  the  epic  and  tragic 
writers  are  imitators  in  the  highest  degree." 

Now  that  the  nature  of  imitation  has  been  discovered,  the 
next  inquiry  is — to  what  faculty  in  man  does  imitation  appeal  ? 
Take  first  the  case  of  painting.  Objects  in  the  world  about 
us  look  different  at  different  times.  For  example,  the  same 
object  appears  straight  when  out  of  water  and  crooked  in  water. 
Thus  do  our  senses  deceive  us  by  various  kinds  of  illusion. 
We  should  be  greatly  confused  by  this  variety  of  appearance, 
were  it  not  that  by  measuring,  weighing,  and  numbering,  we 
can  determine  the  fact.  That  part  of  the  soul  which  trusts  to 
measuring  and  calculation  is  the  highest  and  best  part,  or  the 
rational  principle  of  the  soul.  That  part  of  the  soul  which 
is  deceived  by  appearance  and  does  not  rely  on  measuring,  is 
one  of  the  inferior  principles  of  the  soul.  Now  the  imitations 
of  painting,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  are  far  removed  from  the 
truth,  address  themselves  not  to  reason,  but  to  an  inferior  part 
of  the  soul  which  is  capable  of  being  imposed  upon. 

We  shall  find  that  poetry  is  analogous  to  painting  in  that  it 
appeals  to  another  inferior  principle  in  man's  soul.  When  a 
man  meets  with  misfortune,  his  first  impulse  is  to  moan  and 
lament.  This  impulse  is  prompted  by  an  irrational  or  cow- 
ardly part  of  his  soul.  The  highest  or  rational  principle  bids 
him  resist  the  desire  to  bewail  his  sufferings.  It  bids  him 
find  a  cure  or  endure  with  patience.  Now  the  calm  wise  tem- 
perament in  which  the  rational  principle  prevails  is  not  easy 
to  imitate ;  nor  would  it  be  appreciated  by  the  mixed  multi- 
tude which  form  the  audience  of  the  poets.  The  multitude 
understand  best  the  fitful  and  passionate  temper  of  man. 
Therefore  in  order  to  be  popular,  the  imitative  poet  does  not 
try  to  please  or  affect  the  rational  principle  in  the  soul  of  his 
hearers.  Instead,  he  appeals  to  their  feelings  and  represents 
men  in  trouble,  weeping  and  wailing  over  misfortunes.  We 
are  right  then  in  refusing  to  admit  the  poet  to  the  State,  for 
he  awakens  and  nourishes  the  feelings,  but  he  impairs  the  reason. 

The  most  serious  charge  against  poetry  is  its  power  of  harm- 


THE   REPUBLIC  397 

ing  even  the  good.  Even  those  of  us  who  with  pride  restrain 
ourselves  from  outcry  over  suffering,  delight  in  giving  way  to 
sympathy  with  the  weeping  and  wailing  heroes  of  tragedy.  Can 
it  be  right  for  us  to  admire  in  another  what  we  would  be  ashamed 
of  in  ourselves  ?  If  we  indulge  in  pity  for  others,  we  become 
weak  ourselves  and  will  end  by  weeping  over  our  own  sorrows. 
The  same  is  true  of  comedy.  We  laugh  at  jests  on  the  stage, 
which  we  should  be  ashamed  to  utter  ourselves.  If  we  con- 
tinue to  be  amused  by  coarse  merriment  we  shall  ourselves  be- 
come buffoons.  In  like  manner  anger  and  all  the  other  pas- 
sions are  fed  and  watered  by  poetry.  But  since  law  and 
reason  are  to  be  rulers  in  our  State,  not  pain  and  pleasure,  we 
must  expel  all  poetry  except  hymns  to  the  Gods  and  praises 
of  famous  men. 

We  are  conscious  of  the  charm  of  poetry  and  we  should 
gladly  admit  her  to  the  State  could  she  make  a  defense  of  her- 
self and  prove  that  she  is  not  only  delightful  but  "useful  to 
States  and  to  human  life."] 

But  so  long  as  she  is  unable  to  make  good  her  defense, 
even  though  our  ears  may  listen,  our  soul  will  be  ^  J 
charmed  against  her  by  repeating  this  discourse  of 
ours,  and  into  the  childish  love  which  the  many  have  of  her 
we  shall  take  care  not  to  fall  again,  for  we  see  that  poetry  be- 
ing such  as  she  is,  is  not  to  be  pursued  in  earnest  or  regarded 
seriously  as  attaining  to  the  truth ;  and  he  who  listens  to  her 
will  be  on  his  guard  against  her  seductions,  fearing  for  the 
safety  of  the  city  which  is  within  him,  and  he  will  attend  to 
our  words. 

Yes,  he  said,  I  quite  agree  with  you. 

Yes,  I  said,  my  dear  Glaucon,  for  great  is  the  issue  at  stake, 
greater  than  appears,  whether  a  man  is  to  be  good  or  bad. 
Neither  under  the  influence  of  honor  or  money  or  power,  aye, 
or  under  the  excitement  of  poetry,  ought  he  to  fail  in  the  ob- 
servance of  justice  and  virtue. 

I  agree,  he  said  ;  and  I  think  that  any  one  would  agree  who 
heard  the  argument. 

And  yet,  I  said,  no  mention  has  been  made  of  the  greatest 
prizes  and  rewards  of  virtue. 

If,  he  said,  there  are  others  greater  than  these  they  must  be 
of  an  inconceivable  greatness. 


398  PLATO  THE   TEACHER 

Why,  I  said,  what  was  ever  great  in  a  short  time  ?  The 
whole  period  of  threescore  years  and  ten  is  surely  but  a  little 
thing  in  comparison  with  eternity  ? 

Say  rather  "nothing,"  he  replied. 

And  should  an  immortal  being  seriously  think  of  this  little 
space  rather  than  of  the  whole  ? 

Yes,  he  said,  I  think  that  he  should.  But  what  do  you 
mean  ? 

Are  you  not  aware,  I  said,  that  the  soul  is  immortal  and 
imperishable? 

He  looked  at  me  in  astonishment,  and  said  :  No,  indeed ; 
you  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you  are  able  to  prove  that  ? 

Yes,  I  said,  I  ought  to  be  able,  and  you  too,  for  there  is  no 
difficulty. 

I  do  not  see  that,  he  said  ;  and  I  should  like  to  hear  this 
argument  of  which  you  make  no  difficulty. 

Listen  then,  I  said. 

[In  almost  everything  there  is  an  inherent  evil  or  disease. 
For  example,  the  evil  of  corn  is  mildew,  of  iron,  rust.  The 
evil  which  is  inherent  in  a  thing  may  destroy  it ;  or  if  this 
does  not,  nothing  else  can.  The  soul  has  its  evils, — injustice, 
intemperance,  cowardice,  and  the  like  ;  but  these  evils  do 
not  destroy  the  soul  as  disease  destroys  the  body.  Now  it 
is  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  a  thing  which  cannot  be  de- 
stroyed from  within  by  its  own  corruption,  can  be  destroyed 
by  some  external  evil.  Bad  food  cannot  destroy  the  body 
unless  the  corruption  of  the  food  is  communicated  to  the 
body.  In  this  case  disease  arises  and  this  disease,  not  the 
food,  destroys  the  body.  On  the  same  principle,  unless  some 
bodily  evil  can  produce  an  evil  of  the  soul,  the  bodily  evil 
cannot  destroy  the  soul.  No  bodily  evil  can  infect  the  soul 
for  no  one  can  prove  that  even  death  makes  a  man  more  unholy 
or  unjust.  As  no  bodily  evil  can  infect  the  soul  none  can 
destroy  the  soul.  Now  the  soul  which  cannot  be  destroyed 
by  any  evil,  whether  inherent  or  external,  must  exist  forever 
and  so  be  immortal. 

Socrates  continues  :] 

Her  immortality  may  be  proven  by  the  previous  argument 
and  by  other  arguments ;  and  you  should  also  see  her  original 


THE   REPUBLIC  399 

nature,  not  as  we  now  behold  her,  marred  by  communion  with 
the  body  and  other  miseries,  but  you  should  look  upon  her 
with  the  eye  of  reason,  pure  as  at  birth,  and  then  her  beauty 
would  be  discovered,  and  in  her  image  justice  would  be  more 
clearly  seen,  and  injustice,  and  all  the  things  which  we  have 
described.  But  now,  although  we  have  spoken  the  truth  con- 
cerning her  as  she  appears  at  present,  we  must  remember  that 
we  have  seen  her  only  in  a  condition  which  may  be  compared 
to  that  of  the  sea-god  Glaucus,  whose  original  image  can 
hardly  be  discerned  because  his  natural  members  are  broken 
off  and  crushed  and  in  many  ways  damaged  by  the  waves,  and 
incrustations  have  grown  over  them  of  seaweed  and  shells  and 
stones  so  that  he  is  liker  to  some  sea-monster  than  to  his  nat- 
ural form.  And  the  soul  is  in  a  similar  condition,  disfigured 
by  ten  thousand  ills.  But  not  there,  Glaucon,  not  there  must 
we  look. 

Where  then? 

At  her  love  of  wisdom.  Let  us  see  whom  she  affects,  and 
what  converse  she  seeks  in  virtue  of  her  near  kindred  with  the 
immortal  and  eternal  and  divine ;  also  how  different  she  would 
become  if  wholly  following  this  superior  principle,  and  borne 
by  a  divine  impulse  out  of  the  ocean  in  which  she  now  is,  and 
disengaged  from  the  stones  and  shells  and  things  of  earth  and 
rock  which  in  wild  variety  grow  around  her  because  she  , 
feeds  upon  earth,  and  is  crusted  over  by  the  good  things 
of  this  life  as  they  are  termed  :  then  you  would  see  her  as  she 
is,  and  know  whether  she  have  one  form  only  or  many,  or 
what  her  nature  is.  Of  her  form  and  affections  in  this  present 
life  I  have  said  enough. 

True,  he  said. 

Thus,  I  said,  have  we  followed  out  the  argument,  putting 
aside  the  rewards  and  glories  of  justice,  such  as  you  were  say- 
ing that  Homer  and  Hesiod  introduced ;  and  justice  in  her 
own  nature  has  been  shown  to  be  best  for  the  soul  in  her 
nature ;  let  her  do  what  is  just,  whether  she  have  the  ring  of 
Gyges1  or  not,  and,  besides  the  ring  of  Gyges,  the  helmet  of 
Hades. 2 

That  is  very  true. 

1  See  Book  II.,  359 

2  Hades  (Roman  Pluto),  sovereign  of  the  lower  world,  possessed  a  helmet 
or  cap,  the  symbol  of  his  invisible  empire,  which  rendered  the  wearer  invis- 
ible. 


400  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

And  now,  Glaucon,  there  will  be  no  harm  in  further  enu- 
merating how  many  and  how  great  are  the  rewards  which  justice 
and  the  other  virtues  procure  to  the  soul  from  gods  and  men, 
both  in  life  and  after  death. 

Certainly,  he  said. 

Will  you  repay  me,  then,  what  you  borrowed  in  the  argu- 
ment? 

What  was  that  ? 

I  granted  that  the  just  man  should  appear  unjust  and  the 
unjust  just :  for  you  were  of  opinion  that  even  if  the  true  state 
of  the  case  could  not  possibly  escape  the  eyes  of  gods  and  men, 
still  this  ought  to  be  admitted  for  the  sake  of  the  argument, 
in  order  that  pure  justice  might  be  weighed  against  pure  in- 
justice.    Do  you  not  remember? 

You  would  have  reason  to  complain  of  me  if  I  had  forgot- 
ten. 

Then,  as  the  cause  is  decided,  I  demand  on  behalf  of  justice 
that  the  glory  which  she  receives  from  gods  and  men  be  also 
allowed  to  her  by  you  j  having  been  shown  to  have  reality, 
and  not  to  deceive  those  who  truly  possess  her,  she  may  also 
have  appearance  restored  to  her,  and  thus  obtain  the  other 
crown  of  victory  which  is  hers  also. 

The  demand,  he  said,  is  just. 

In  the  first  place,  I  said — and  this  is  the  first  point  which 
you  will  have  to  give  back — the  nature  both  of  just  and  unjust 
is  truly  known  to  the  gods  ? 

I  am  willing  to  restore  that. 

And  if  they  are  both  known  to  them,  one  must  be  the 
friend  and  the  other  the  enemy  of  the  gods,  as  we  admitted  at 
first? 

True. 

And  the  friend  of  the  gods  may  be  supposed  to  receive  from 
,         them  every  good,  excepting  only  such  evil  as  is  the 
necessary  consequence  of  former  sins? 

Certainly. 

Then  this  must  be  our  notion  of  the  just  man,  that  even 
when  he  is  in  poverty  or  sickness,  or  any  other  seeming  mis- 
fortune, all  things  will  in  the  end  work  together  for  good  to 
him  in  life  and  death3:   for  the  gods  have  a  care  of  any  one 

8  "  And  we  know  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God." — Romans  viii.  28. 


THE   REPUBLIC  4-OI 

whose  desire  is  to  become  just  and  to  be  like  God,  as  far  as 
man  can  attain  his  likeness,  by  the  pursuit  of  virtue? 

Yes,  he  said ;  if  he  is  like  God  he  will  surely  not  be  neg- 
lected by  him. 

And  of  the  unjust  may  not  the  opposite  be  assumed  ? 

Certainly. 

Such,  then,  is  the  prize  of  victory  which  the  gods  give  the 
just? 

Yes,  he  said,  that  is  my  belief. 

And  what  do  they  receive  of  men  ?  Look  at  things  as  they 
really  are  and  you  will  see  that  the  clever  unjust  are  in  the 
case  of  runners,  who  run  well  from  the  starting-place  to  the 
goal,  but  not  back  again  from  the  goal :  they  start  off  at  a  great 
pace,  but  in  the  end  only  look  foolish,  slinking  away  with 
their  ears  draggling  on  their  shoulders,  and  without  a  crown  ; 
but  the  true  runner  comes  to  the  finish  and  receives  the  prize 
and  is  crowned.  And  this  is  the  way  with  the  just ;  he  who 
endures  to  the  end  of  every  action  and  occasion  of  his  entire 
life  has  a  good  report  and  carries  off  the  prize  which  men 
bestow. 

True. 

And  now  you  must  allow  me  to  repeat  the  blessings  which 
you  attributed  to  the  fortunate  unjust.  I  shall  say  of  the  just 
as  you  were  saying  of  the  unjust,  that  as  they  grow  older,  if 
that  is  their  desire,  they  become  rulers  in  their  own  city  ;  they 
marry  whom  they  like  and  give  in  marriage  to  whomsoever 
they  like ;  all  that  you  said  of  the  others  I  now  say  of  these. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  I  say  of  the  unjust  that  the  greater 
number,  even  though  they  escape  in  their  youth,  are  found 
out  at  last  and  look  foolish  at  the  end  of  their  course,  and 
when  they  come  to  be  old  and  miserable  are  flouted  alike  by 
stranger  and  citizen ;  they  are  beaten  and  then  come  those 
things  unfit  for  ears  polite,  as  you  truly  term  them ;  they  will 
be  racked  and  burned,  as  you  were  saying ;  I  shall  ask  you  to 
suppose  that  you  have  heard  all  that.  Will  you  allow  me  to 
assume  that  much  ? 

Certainly,  he  said,  for  what  you  say  is  true. 

These,  then,  are  the  prizes  and  rewards  and  gifts  which      , 
are  bestowed  upon  the  just  by  gods  and  men  in  this  pres- 
ent life,  in  addition  to  those  other  good  things  which  justice  of 
herself  gives. 
26 


402  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Yes,  he  said  ;  and  they  are  fair  and  lasting. 

And  yet,  I  said,  all  these  things  are  as  nothing,  either  in 
number  or  greatness,  in  comparison  with  those  other  recom- 
penses which  await  both  just  and  unjust  after  death,  which  are 
more  and  greater  far.  And  you  ought  to  hear  them,  and  then 
both  of  them  will  have  received  the  perfect  meed  of  words  due 
to  them. 

Speak,  he  said ;  there  are  few  things  which  I  would  more 
gladly  hear. 

Well,  I  said,  I  will  tell  you  a  tale  ;  not  one  of  the  tales 
which  Odysseus  tells  to  Alcinous,4  yet  this  too  is  a  tale  of  a 
brave  man,  Er  the  son  of  Armenius,  a  Pamphylian  by  birth. 
He  was  slain  in  battle,  and  ten  days  afterwards,  when  the 
bodies  of  the  dead  were  brought  in  already  in  a  state  of  cor- 
ruption, he  was  brought  in  with  them  undecayed,  and  carried 
home  to  be  buried.  And  on  the  twelfth  day,  as  he  was  lying 
on  the  funeral  pile,  he  returned  to  life  and  told  them  what  he 
had  seen  in  the  other  world.  He  said  that  when  his  soul  de- 
parted he  went  on  a  journey  with  a  great  company,  and  that 
they  came  to  a  mysterious  place  at  which  there  were  two 
chasms  in  the  earth  ;  they  were  near  together,  and  over  against 
them  were  two  other  chasms  in  the  heaven  above.  In  the 
intermediate  space  there  were  judges  seated,  who  bade  the  just, 
after  they  had  judged  them,  ascend  by  the  heavenly  way  on 
the  right  hand,  having  the  signs  of  the  judgment  bound  on 
their  foreheads;  and  in  like  manner  the  unjust  were  com- 
manded by  them  to  descend  by  the  lower  way  on  the  left 
hand ;  these  also  had  the  symbols  of  their  deeds  fastened  on 
their  backs.  He  drew  near,  and  they  told  him  that  he  was  to 
be  the  messenger  of  the  other  world  to  men,  and  they  bade 
him  hear  and  see  all  that  was  to  be  heard  and  seen  in  that 
place.  Then  he  beheld  and  saw  on  one  side  the  souls  depart- 
ing at  either  chasm  of  heaven  and  earth  when  sentence  had 
been  given  on  them  ;  and  at  the  two  other  openings  other 
souls,  some  ascending  out  of  the  earth  dusty  and  worn  with 
travel,  some  descending  out  of  heaven,  clean  and  bright.  And 
always,  on  their  arrival,  they  seemed  as  if  they  had  come  from 
a  long  journey,  and  they  went  out  into  the  meadow  with  joy 
and  there  encamped  as  at  a  festival,  and  those  who  knew  one 

4  Alcinous  (al-sm'o-us) :  a  mythical  king  whom  Odysseus  met  in  his  jour- 
neys. 


THE   REPUBLIC  403 

another  embraced  and  conversed,  the  souls  which  came  from 
earth  curiously  inquiring  about  the  things  of  heaven,  and 
the  souls  which  came  from  heaven  of  the  things  of  earth. 
And  they  told  one  another  of  what  had  happened  by  the  way, 
some  weeping  and  sorrowing  at  the  remembrance  of  the  . 
things  which  they  had  endured  and  seen  in  their  journey 
beneath  the  earth  (now  the  journey  lasted  a  thousand  years), 
while  others  were  describing  heavenly  blessings  and  visions  of 
inconceivable  beauty.  There  is  not  time,  Glaucon,  to  tell 
all ;  but  the  sum  was  this  :  He  said  that  for  every  wrong  which 
they  had  done  to  any  one  they  suffered  tenfold ;  the  thousand 
years  answering  to  the  hundred  years  which  are  reckoned  as 
the  life  of  man.  If,  for  example,  there  were  any  who  had 
committed  murders,  or  had  betrayed  or  enslaved  cities  or 
armies,  or  been  guilty  of  any  other  evil  behavior,  for  each  and 
all  of  these  they  received  punishment  ten  times  over,  and  the 
rewards  of  beneficence  and  justice  and  holiness  were  in  the 
same  proportion.  Not  to  repeat  what  he  had  to  say  concern- 
ing young  children  dying  almost  as  soon  as  they  were  born; 
of  piety  and  impiety  to  gods  and  parents,  and  of  murderers, 
there  were  retributions  yet  greater  which  he  narrated.  He 
mentioned  that  he  was  present  when  one  of  the  spirits  asked 
another,  "  Where  is  Ardiaeus5  the  Great?"  (Now  this 
Ardiaeus  was  the  tyrant  of  some  city  of  Pamphylia,  who  had 
murdered  his  aged  father  and  his  elder  brother,  and  had  com- 
mitted many  other  abominable  crimes,  and  he  lived  a  thousand 
years  before  the  time  of  Er.)  The  answer  was :  "  He  comes 
not  hither,  and  will  never  come."  And  "indeed,"  he  said, 
"  this  was  one  of  the  terrible  sights  which  was  witnessed  by 
us.  For  we  were  approaching  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and 
having  seen  all,  were  about  to  re-ascend,  when  of  a  sudden 
Ardiaeus  appeared  and  several  others,  most  of  whom  were 
tyrants  ;  and  there  were  also  besides  the  tyrants  private  indi- 
viduals who  had  been  great  criminals  ;  they  were  just  at  the 
mouth,  being,  as  they  fancied,  about  to  return  into  the  upper 
world,  but  the  opening,  instead  of  receiving  them,  gave  a  roar, 
as  was  the  case  when  any  incurable  or  unpunished  sinner  ,  6 
tried  to  ascend  ;  and  then  wild  men  of  fiery  aspect,  who 
knew  the  meaning  of  the  sound,  came  up  and  seized  and  car- 
ried off  several  of  them,  and  Ardiaeus  and  others  they  bound 
•  Ardiaeus  (ar'di-e'us). 


404  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

head  and  foot  and  hand,  and  threw  them  down  and  flayed 
them  with  scourges,  and  dragged  them  along  the  road  at  the 
side,  carding  them  on  thorns  like  wool,  and  declaring  to  the 
pilgrims  as  they  passed  what  were  their  crimes,  and  that  they 
were  being  taken  away  to  be  cast  into  hell.  And  of  all  the 
terrors  of  the  place  there  was  no  terror  like  this  of  hearing  the 
voice  ;  and  when  there  was  silence  they  ascended  with  joy." 
These  were  the  penalties  and  retributions,  and  there  were 
blessings  as  great. 

Now  when  the  spirits  that  were  in  the  meadow  had  tarried 
seven  days,  on  the  eighth  day  they  were  obliged  to  proceed  on 
their  journey,  and  on  the  fourth  day  from  that  time  they  came 
to  a  place  where  they  looked  down  from  above  upon  a  line  of 
light,  like  a  column  extending  right  through  the  whole  heaven 
and  earth,  in  color  not  unlike  the  rainbow,  only  brighter  and 
purer;  another  day's  journey  brought  them  to  the  place,  and 
there,  in  the  midst  of  the  light,  they  saw  reaching  from  heaven 
the  extremities  of  the  chains  of  it :  for  this  light  is  the  belt  of 
heaven,  and  holds  together  the  circle  of  the  universe,  like  the 
undergirders  of  a  trireme.6  And  from  the  extremities  of  the 
chains  is  extended  the  spindle  of  Necessity,  on  which  all  the 
revolutions  turn.  The  shaft  and  hook  of  this  spindle  are  made 
of  steel,  and  the  whorl  is  made  partly  of  steel  and  also  partly  of 
other  materials.  Now  the  whorl  is  in  form  like  the  whorl  used 
on  earth  •  and  you  are  to  suppose,  as  he  described,  that  there 
is  one  large  hollow  whorl  which  is  scooped  out,  and  into  this 
is  fitted  another  lesser  one,  and  another,  and  another,  and  four 
others,  making  eight  in  all,  like  boxes  which  fit  into  one  an- 
other ;  their  edges  are  turned  upwards,  and  all  together  form 
one  continuous  whorl.  This  is  pierced  by  the  spindle,  which 
is  driven  home  through  the  center  of  the  eighth.  The  first  and 
outermost  whorl  has  the  rim  broadest,  and  the  seven  inner 
whorls  narrow,  in  the  following  proportions — the  sixth  is  next 
to  the  first  in  size,  the  fourth  next  to  the  sixth  ;  then  comes  the 
eighth ;  the  seventh  is  fifth,  the  fifth  is  sixth,  the  third  is  sev- 
enth, last  and  eighth  comes  the  second.  The  largest  [or  fixed 
.  stars]  is  spangled,  and  the  seventh  [or  sun]  is  brightest ; 
17  the  eighth  [or  moon]  colored  by  the  reflected  light  of  the 
seventh  ;  the  second  and  fifth  [Mercury  and  Saturn]  are  like 
one  another,  and  of  a  yellower  color  than  the  preceding ;  the 
6  A  kind  of  boat  with  three  rows  of  oars  on  a  side. 


THE  REPUBLIC  405 

third  [Venus]  has  the  whitest  light ;  the  fourth  [MarsJ  is  red- 
dish ;  the  sixth  [Jupiter]  is  in  whiteness  second.  Now  the 
whole  spindle  has  the  same  motion  ;  but,  as  the  whole  revolves 
in  one  direction,  the  seven  inner  circles  move  slowly  in  the 
other,  and  of  these  the  swiftest  is  the  eighth ;  next  in  swiftness 
are  the  seventh,  sixth,  and  fifth,  which  move  together ;  third 
in  swiftness  appeared  to  them  to  move  in  reversed  orbit  the 
fourth ;  the  third  appeared  fourth,  and  the  second  fifth.  The 
spindle  turns  on  the  knees  of  Necessity ;  and  on  the  upper  sur- 
face of  each  circle  is  a  siren,  who  goes  round  with  them,  hymn- 
ing a  single  sound  and  note.  The  eight  together  form  one  har- 
mony ;  and  round  about,  at  equal  intervals,  there  is  another 
band,  three  in  number,  each  sitting  upon  her  throne :  these  are 
the  Fates,  daughters  of  Necessity,  who  are  clothed  in  white  rai- 
ment and  have  garlands  upon  their  heads,  Lachesis  and  Clotho 
and  Atropos,7  who  accompany  with  their  voices  the  harmony  of 
the  sirens — Lachesis  singing  of  the  past,  Clotho  of  the  present, 
Atropos  of  the  future  ;  Clotho  now  and  then  assisting  with  a 
touch  of  her  right  hand  the  motion  of  the  outer  circle  or  whorl 
of  the  spindle,  and  Atropos  with  her  left  hand  touching  and 
guiding  the  inner  ones,  and  Lachesis  laying  hold  of  either  in 
turn,  first  with  one  hand  and  then  with  the  other. 

Now  when  the  spirits  arrived,  their  duty  was  to  go  to  Lache- 
sis ;  but  first  a  prophet  came  and  arranged  them  in  order ;  then 
he  took  from  the  knees  of  Lachesis  lots  and  samples  of  lives, 
and  going  up  to  a  high  place,  spoke  as  follows :  u  Hear  the 
word  of  Lachesis,  the  daughter  of  Necessity.  Mortal  souls, 
behold  a  new  cycle  of  mortal  life.  Your  genius  will  not 
choose  you,  but  you  will  choose- your  genius;  and  let  him 
who  draws  the  first  lot  have  the  first  choice  of  life,  which  shall 
be  his  destiny.  Virtue  is  free,  and  as  a  man  honors  or  dis- 
honors her  he  will  have  more  or  less  of  her ;  the  chooser  is 
answerable — God  is  justified."  When  the  Interpreter  had 
thus  spoken  he  cast  the  lots  among  them,  and  each  one  took 
up  the  lot  which  fell  near  him,  all  but  Er  himself  (he  ,  ~ 
was  not  allowed),  and  each  as  he  took  his  lot  perceived 
the  number  which  he  had  drawn.  Then  the  Interpreter  placed 
on  the  ground  before  them  the  samples  of  life ;  and  there  were 
many  more  lives  than  the  souls  present,  and  there  were  all  sorts 
of  lives — of  every  animal  and  every  condition  of  man.  And 
1  Lachesis  (15k'e-s!s).    Clotho  (klj'tho).    Atropos  (at'ro-pos). 


406  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

there  were  tyrannies  among  them,  some  continuing  while  the 
tyrant  lived,  others  which  broke  off  in  the  middle  and  came 
to  an  end  in  poverty  and  exile  and  beggary;  and  there  were 
lives  of  famous  men,  some  who  were  famous  for  their  form  and 
beauty  as  well  as  for  their  strength  and  success  in  games,  or, 
again,  for  their  birth  and  the  qualities  of  their  ancestors ;  and 
some  who  were  the  reverse  of  famous  for  the  opposite  qualities. 
And  of  women  likewise ;  there  was  not,  however,  any  definite 
character  among  them,  because  the  soul  must  of  necessity 
choose  another  life,  and  become  another.  But  there  were 
many  elements  mingling  with  one  another,  and  also  with  ele- 
ments of  wealth  and  poverty,  and  disease  and  health  j  and 
there  were  mean  states  also.  And  this,  my  dear  Glaucon,  is 
the  great  danger  of  man ;  and  therefore  the  utmost  care  should 
be  taken.  Let  each  one  of  us  leave  every  other  kind  of  knowl- 
edge and  seek  and  follow  one  thing  only,  if  perad venture  he 
may  be  able  to  learn  and  find  who  there  is  who  can  and  will 
teach  him  to  distinguish  the  life  of  good  and  evil,  and  to 
choose  always  and  everywhere  the  better  life  as  far  as  possible. 
He  should  consider  the  bearing  of  all  these  things  which  have 
been  mentioned  severally  and  collectively  upon  a  virtuous  life  ; 
he  should  know  what  the  effect  of  beauty  is  when  compounded 
with  poverty  or  wealth  in  a  particular  soul,  and  what  are  the 
good  and  evil  consequences  of  noble  and  humble  birth,  of 
private  and  public  station,  of  strength  and  weakness,  of  clever- 
ness and  dullness,  and  of  all  the  natural  and  acquired  gifts  of 
the  soul,  and  study  the  composition  of  them  j  then  he  will 
look  at  the  nature  of  the  soul,  and  from  the  consideration  of 
all  this  he  will  determine  which  is  the  better  and  which  is  the 
worse  life,  and  at  last  he  will  choose,  giving  the  name  of  evil 
to  the  life  which  will  make  his  soul  more  unjust,  and  good  to 
the  life  which  will  make  his  soul  more  just ;  all  else  he  will 
disregard.  For  this,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  best  choice  both 
6  for  this  life  and  after  death.  Such  an  iron  sense  of 
truth  and  right  must  a  man  take  with  him  into  the  world 
below,  that  there  too  he  may  be  undazzled  by  the  desire  of 
wealth  or  the  other  allurements  of  evil,  lest,  coming  upon  tyr- 
annies and  similar  villainies,  he  do  irremediable  wrongs  to 
others  and  suffer  yet  worse  himself;  but  let  him  know  how  to 
choose  the  mean  and  avoid  the  extremes  on  either  side,  as  far 
as  in  him  lies,  not  only  in  this  life  but  in  all  that  which  is  to 
come.     For  this  is  the  way  of  happiness. 


THE  REPUBLIC  407 

And  this  was  what  the  Interpreter  said  at  the  time,  as  the 
messenger  from  the  other  world  reported  him  to  have  spoken  : 
"  Even  for  the  last  comer,  if  he  chooses  wisely  and  will  live 
diligently,  there  is  appointed  a  happy  and  not  undesirable  ex- 
istence. Let  not  the  first  be  careless  in  his  choice,  and  let 
not  the  last  despair. "  As  he  spoke  these  words  he  who  had  the 
first  choice  drew  near  and  at  once  chose  the  greatest  tyranny  ; 
his  mind,  having  been  darkened  by  folly  and  sensuality,  he 
did  not  well  consider,  and  therefore  did  not  see  at  first  that 
he  was  fated,  among  other  evils,  to  devour  his  own  children. 
But,  when  he  came  to  himself  and  saw  what  was  in  the  lot, 
he  began  to  beat  his  breast  and  lament  over  his  choice,  for- 
getting the  proclamation  of  the  Interpreter;  for,  instead  of 
blaming  himself  as  the  author  of  his  calamity,  he  accused 
chance  and  the  gods,  and  everything  rather  than  himself. 
Now  he  was  one  of  those  who  came  from  heaven,  and  in  a 
former  life  had  dwelt  in  a  well-ordered  State,  but  his  virtue 
was  a  matter  of  habit  only,  and  he  had  no  philosophy.  And 
this  was  more  often  the  fortune  of  those  who  came  from 
heaven,  because  they  had  no  experience  of  life ;  whereas,  in 
general,  the  dwellers  upon  earth,  who  had  seen  and  known 
trouble,  were  not  in  a  hurry  to  choose.  And  owing  to  this 
inexperience  of  theirs,  and  also  because  the  lot  was  a  chance, 
many  of  the  souls  exchanged  a  good  destiny  for  an  evil  or  an 
evil  for  a  good.  For  if  a  man  had  always  from  the  first  dedi- 
cated himself  to  sound  philosophy,  and  had  been  moderately 
fortunate  in  the  number  of  the  lot,  he  might,  as  the  messenger 
reported,  be  happy  in  this  life,  and  also  his  passage  to  another 
life  and  return  to  this,  instead  of  being  rugged  and  under- 
ground, would  be  smooth  and  heavenly.  Most  curious,  he 
said,  was  the  spectacle  of  the  election — sad  and  laughable  and 
strange ;  the  souls  generally  choosing  according  to  , 
their  condition  in  a  previous  life.  There  he  saw  the 
soul  that  was  once  Orpheus 8  choosing  the  life  of  a  swan  out 
of  enmity  to  the  race  of  women,  hating  to  be  born  of  a  woman 

*  See  Apology,  note  51.  By  the  power  of  his  music  Orpheus  succeeded 
in  entering  the  world  of  the  dead  and  regaining  his  beautiful  young  wife 
Eurydice  (u-ry'df-ce)  on  condition  that  he  should  not  turn  back  to  see  if  she 
were  following  until  they  reached  the  upper  air.  He  looked  back,  however, 
and  Eurydice  was  taken  from  him.  In  his  grief  he  is  said  to  have  hated  all 
women  and  repelled  the  advances  of  those  who  tried  to  captivate  him. 
Angered  by  this,  the  Thracian  women,  under  the  excitement  of"  certain  re- 
ligious rites,  tore  him  to  pieces. 


408  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

because  they  had  been  his  murderers  ;  he  saw  also  the  soul  of 
Thamyris g  choosing  the  life  of  a  nightingale  ;  birds,  on  the 
other  hand,  like  the  swan  and  other  musicians,  choosing  to 
be  men,  The  soul  which  obtained  the  twentieth  lot  chose 
the  life  of  a  lion,  and  this  was  the  soul  of  Ajax 10  the  son  of 
Telamon,  who  would  not  be  a  man,  remembering  the  injus- 
tice which  was  done  him  in  the  judgment  of  the  arms.  The 
next  was  Agamemnon,11  who  took  the  life  of  an  eagle,  because, 
like  Ajax,  he  hated  human  nature  on  account  of  his  sufferings. 
About  the  middle  was  the  lot  of  Atalanta,12  she  seeing  the 
great  fame  of  an  athlete,  was  unable  to  resist  the  temptation  ; 
and  after  her  there  came  the  soul  of  Epeus  13  the  son  of  Pano- 
peus  passing  into  the  nature  of  a  woman  cunning  in  the  arts  ; 
and  far  away  among  the  last  who  chose,  the  soul  of  the  jester 
Thersites 14  was  putting  on  the  form  of  a  monkey.  There 
came  also  the  soul  of  Odysseus  15  having  yet  to  make  a  choice, 
and  his  lot  happened  to  be  the  last  of  them  all.  Now  the 
recollection  of  former  toils  had  disenchanted  him  of  ambition, 
and  he  went  about  for  a  considerable  time  in  search  of  the  life 
of  a  private  man  who  had  nothing  to  do  ;  he  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  finding  this  which  was  lying  about  and  had  been  neg- 
lected by  everybody  else  ;  and  when  he  saw  it  he  said  that  he 
would  have  done  the  same  had  he  been  first  instead  of  last, 
and  that  he  was  delighted  at  his  choice.  And  not  only  did 
men  pass  into  animals,  but  I  must  also  mention  that  there 
were  animals  tame  and  wild  who  changed  into  one  another 
and  into  corresponding  human  natures,  the  good  into  the  gen- 
tle and  the  evil  into  the  savage,  in  all  sorts  of  combinations. 

9  Thamyris  (tham'y-ris) :  a  legendary  Thracian  bard.  He  challenged  the 
Muses  to  a  trial  of  skill,  was  defeated,  and  deprived  by  them  of  sight  and 
the  power  of  song. 

10  See  Apology,  note  56.  He  is  said  to  have  killed  himself  because  of  his 
defeat  in  the  contest  with  Odysseus  for  the  armor  of  Achilles. 

11  Leader  in  the  expedition  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy.  See  Apology, 
note  21. 

13  Atalanta  (St'a-lan'ta) :  a  huntress,  beautiful  and  swift  of  foot. 

13  Epeus  [(e-pe'us),  son  of  Panopeus  (pan'o-peus)]  :  maker  of  the  famous 
wooden  horse,  which,  filled  with  armed  Greeks,  was  carried  by  the  unsus- 
pecting Trojans  within  their  walls  and  proved  their  destruction.  For  at 
night  the  men  concealed  within,  opened  the  gates  of  Troy  to  the  Greeks. 
See  Apology,  note  21. 

"Thersites  (ther-si'-tez)  :  one  of  the  Greeks  who  went  to  Troy;  noted 
for  his  impudent  talk  and  insolent  brawling  ;  said  to  have  been  killed  by 
Achilles  because  he  ridiculed  that  hero's  lament  over  a  fallen  foe. 

16  See  Apology,  note  58. 


THE  REPUBLIC  409 

All  the  souls  had  now  chosen  their  lives,  and  they  went  in  the 
order  of  their  choice  to  Lachesis,  who  sent  with  them  the 
genius  whom  they  had  severally  chosen,  to  be  the  guardian  of 
their  lives  and  the  fulfiller  of  the  choice  ;  this  genius  led  the 
souls  first  to  Clotho,  and  drew  them  within  the  revolution  of 
the  spindle  impelled  by  her  hand,  thus  ratifying  the  destiny  of 
each  ;  and  then,  when  they  were  fastened,  carried  them  to 
Atropos,  who  spun  the  threads  and  made  them  irreversible ; 
whence  without  turning  round  they  passed  beneath  the  , 
throne  of  Necessity  ;  and  when  they  had  all  passed,  they 
marched  on  in  a  scorching  heat  to  the  plain  of  Forgetfulness, 
which  was  a  barren  waste  destitute  of  trees  and  verdure;  and 
then  towards  evening  they  encamped  by  the  river  of  Negli- 
gence, the  water  of  which  no  vessel  can  hold  ;  of  this  they 
were  all  obliged  to  drink  a  certain  quantity,  and  those  who 
were  not  saved  by  wisdom  drank  more  than  was  necessary  j 
and  those  who  drank  forgot  all  things.  Now  after  they  had 
gone  to  rest,  about  the  middle  of  the  night  there  was  a  thun- 
derstorm and  earthquake,  and  then  in  an  instant  they  were 
driven  all  manner  of  ways  like  stars  shooting  to  their  birth. 
He  himself  was  hindered  from  drinking  the  water.  But  in 
what  manner  or  by  what  means  he  returned  to  the  body  he 
could  not  say ;  only,  in  the  morning  awaking  suddenly,  he 
saw  himself  lying  on  the  pyre. 

And  thus,  Glaucon,  the  tale  has  been  saved  and  has  not  per- 
ished, and  may  be  our  salvation  if  we  are  obedient  to  the  word 
spoken  ;  and  we  shall  pass  safely  over  the  river  of  Forgetful- 
ness and  our  soul  will  not  be  defiled.  Wherefore  my  counsel 
is,  that  we  hold  fast  to  the  heavenly  way  and  follow  after  jus- 
tice and  virtue  always,  considering  that  the  soul  is  immortal 
and  able  to  endure  every  sort  of  good  and  every  sort  of  evil. 
Thus  shall  we  live  dear  to  one  another  and  to  the  gods,  both 
while  remaining  here  and  when,  like  conquerors  in  the  games 
who  go  round  to  gather  gifts,  we  receive  our  reward.  And  it 
shall  be  well  with  us  both  in  this  life  and  in  the  pilgrimage  of 
a  thousand  years  which  we  have  been  reciting. 


PH£DO 


SUGGESTIONS  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  PH/EDO 

Instead  of  the  ordinary  form  of  Introduction  the 
following  suggestions  on  the  study  of  the  Phaedo 
are  submitted. 

I.  Do  not  study  the  dialogue  first  of  all  to  see 
whether  you  agree  with  the  arguments  or  conclu- 
sions of  Socrates.  Try  first  to  hear  him  out,  just  as 
if  you  were  with  him  in  the  prison,  and  to  appreci- 
ate sympathetically  the  course  and  the  spirit  of  his 
argument  about  immortality. 

II.  Do  not  begin  by  a  formal  study  of  the  dia- 
logue. Read  it  through  at  least  once  just  as  you 
would  read  a  novel,  to  get  the  story,  and  general 
sense  and  spirit  of  the  whole. 

III.  Study  of  the  formal  arguments  for  immor- 
tality :  Read  first  very  thoughtfully  the  account  of 
the  doctrine  of  ideas,  the  doctrine  of  the  pre-exist- 
ence  of  the  soul,  and  the  doctrine  of  reminiscence  in 
the  Introduction,  page  xxvi.  If  you  have  other 
books  to  read  on  these  subjects,  so  much  the  better. 
Then  write  out  as  briefly  and  clearly  as  possible  the 
five  formal  arguments  for  immortality,  as  they  are 
given  in  the  text  and  summaries. 

Note:  The  first  and  fifth  arguments  seemed  to 
one  of  the  hearers  (103)  inconsistent.  Jowett  thinks 
them  really  inconsistent. 

413 


414  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Note  on  the  argument  from  reminiscence:  How  we 
get  pure  abstract  ideas,  such  as  those  found  in  pure 
mathematics,  has  been  a  standing  question  in  philos- 
ophy. Plato  held,  as  we  see,  that  we  remember 
such  ideas  from  a  former  existence.  Some  modern 
philosophers  have  held  that  we  are  born  with  these 
ideas  or  with  natural  capacities  which  always  lead 
us  to  them.  Others  have  held  that  all  such  ideas 
are  gained  by  experience.  Some  hold  that  the  ex- 
periences of  our  ancestors  are  born  in  us  as  instinc- 
tive tendencies  which  give  rise  to  these  ideas.  The 
last  view  has  more  in  common  with  that  of  Plato 
than  may  at  first  appear ;  for,  according  to  this  view, 
the  individual  has  a  kind  of  pre-existence  in  his 
ancestors,  and  his  most  abstract  ideas  are  organic 
memories  from  that  ancestral  pre-existence.  The 
modern  theory  does  not,  however,  represent  the 
soul  as  having  existed  individually  before  birth  and 
so  does  not  suggest  an  individual  existence  after 
death. 

IV.  Besides  working  out  the  formal  arguments 
for  immortality,  Plato  suggests  his  belief  in  respect 
to  it  by  many  incidents  of  the  story.  In  some  cases 
the  connection  between  the  incident  and  the  argu- 
ment is  plain,  in  other  cases,  less  so. 

(i.)  Consider  each  of  the  following  incidents  to 
see  what,  if  any,  connection  it  has  with  Socrates'  be- 
lief as  shown  in  the  dialogue  as  a  whole,  {a)  The 
message  to  Evenus  (61  and  following);  {b)  The  di- 
rection about  the  care  of  his  sons  (115)  ;  (c)  The  an- 
swer to  Crito  about  his  burial  (115);  (d)  The  answer 
to  Crito's  proposal  that  he  postpone  his  death  to  the 
last  legal  moment  (116). 


THE  STUDY   OF  THE   PH^EDO  415 

(2.)  Collect  a  series  of  quotations  from  the  dia- 
logue which  show  the  state  of  Socrates'  feeling,  and 
consider  the  connection  of  this  feeling  in  presence 
of  death,  with  his  professed  belief. 

(3.)  More  difficult  points:  (a)  Read  89,90,  and  91, 
to  where  the  argument  is  resumed.  Note  Socrates' 
advice  against  misology  or  despair  of  reason.  Read 
with  special  care  the  paragraph  beginning,  "  Yes, 
Phasdo,  he  replied,"  etc.,  in  90.  What  connection 
do  you  find  between  Socrates'  reason  why  we  should 
not  be  misologists  and  his  belief  as  shown  in  the  dia- 
logue as  a  whole  ?  (b)  Read  the  paragraph  in  91  be- 
ginning "  Let  us  then,"  etc.  This  paragraph  appears 
to  be  a  confession  of  doubt  and  of  willingness  to  have 
his  arguments  for  immortality  overthrown.  Is  this 
confession  real  or  affected  ?  If  it  is  affected,  is  it 
consistent  with  Socrates'  character  and  professions  ? 
If  it  is  real,  is  it  consistent  with  the  rest  of  the  dia- 
logue ?  (V)  Read  from  78  to  the  end  of  83.  What  is 
the  deepest  reason  given  here  for  loving  good  and 
for  not  loving  evil  ? 

Note :  Taking  the  dialogue  as  a  whole,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  Plato's  belief  in  immortality  rests  upon  his 
conviction  that  beyond  the  world  which  appears  to 
our  senses,  which  is  full  of  change,  of  illusion,  and 
of  evil,  there  is  a  world  which  is  eternal  and  good  ; 
that  the  soul  belongs  by  its  deepest  nature  to  that 
eternal  and  good  world  ;  and  that  by  purging  the 
soul  from  thoughts  of  this  present  evil  world,  and  by 
feeding  the  soul  upon  that  which  is  eternal  and  good, 
we  may  escape  from  this  miserable  changing  exist- 
ence, into  our  true  estate  with  God.  To  know  the 
divine  is  to  embrace  it  and  to  assimilate  the  divine 


4l6  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

— is  to  be  divine  ;  and  to  be  divine  is  to  be  eternal. 
"  This  is  life  eternal  that  ye  might  know  God  and 
Jesus  Christ  whom  he  hath  sent."  Plato  comes 
nearer  to  seeing  this  than  does  many  a  Christian. 


PH/EDO-dfe^^^^ 


PERSONS    OF   THE   DIALOGUE.* 

Ph.^edo,  who  is  the  narrator  of  APOLLODORUS. 

the  Dialogue  to  Simmias. 

ECHECRATES  of  Phlius.  CEBES. 

Socrates.  Crito. 

Attendant  of  the  Prison. 

Scene  : — The  Prison  of  Socrates. 
Place  of  the  Narration: — Phlius.* 

Echecrates.  Were  you  yourself,  Phaedo,  in  the  prison  Stenh 
with  Socrates  on  the  day  when  he  drank  the  poison  ? 3        pgJ 

Phc&do.  Yes,  Echecrates,  I  was. 

Ech.  I  wish  that  you  would  tell  me  about  his  death.  What 
did  he  say  in  his  last  hours  ?  We  were  informed  that  he  died 
by  taking  poison,  but  no  one  knew  anything  more;  for  no  Phli- 
asian  ever  goes  to  Athens  now,  and  a  long  time  has  elapsed 
since  any  Athenian  found  his  way  to  Phlius,  and  therefore  we 
had  no  clear  account. 

Ph<zd.  Did  you  not  hear  of  the  proceedings  at  the  ft 
trial  ?  5* 

1  Phaedo  (fe'do) :  a  Greek  philosopher,  said  to  have  been  brought  to  Athens 
as  a  slave  in  his  youth  and  ransomed  by  one  of  the  friends  of  Socrates. 
Later  he  founded  a  school  of  philosophy. 

Echecrates  (e-kek'ra-tez)  :  not  mentioned  elsewhere  in  Plato. 

Apollodorus.     See  Symposium,  note  i. 

Simmias  (sfm'mf-as) :  a  native  of  Thebes,  educated  in  the  Pythagorean 
philosophy,  which  taught  the  doctrine  of  the  pre-existence  of  the  soul.  Hence 
his  readiness  to  accept  Socrates'  argument  based  on  that  doctrine.  He  is 
said  to  have  written  twenty-three  dialogues,  all  of  which  are  lost. 

Cebes  (se'bez)  :  a  Greek  philosopher,  native  of  Thebes.  He  wrote  three 
dialogues,  one  of  which,  called  Pinax,  or  The  Picture,  has  been  preserved. 

Crito  :  see  Apology,  note  35. 

8  Phlius  (fli'us) :  a  town  about  sixty  miles  west  of  Athens. 

s  Hemlock. 

27  417 


41 8  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

Ech.  Yes ;  some  one  told  us  about  the  trial,  and  we  could 
not  understand  why,  having  been  condemned,  he  was  put  to 
death,  as  appeared,  not  at  the  time,  but  long  afterwards.  What 
was  the  reason  of  this  ? 

Phced.  An  accident,  Echecrates.  The  reason  was  that  the 
stern  of  the  ship  which  the  Athenians  sent  to  Delos  happened 
to  have  been  crowned  on  the  day  before  he  was  tried. 

Ech.  What  is  this  ship  ? 

Phced.  This  is  the  ship  in  which,  as  the  Athenians  say,  The- 
seus 4  went  to  Crete  when  he  took  with  him  the  fourteen  youths, 
and  was  the  saviour  of  them  and  of  himself.  And  they  were 
said  to  have  vowed  to  Apollo  at  the  time,  that  if  they  were 
saved  they  would  make  an  annual  pilgrimage  to  Delos.  Now 
this  custom  still  continues,  and  the  whole  period  of  the  voyage 
to  and  from  Delos,  beginning  when  the  priest  of  Apollo  crowns 
the  stern  of  the  ship,  is  a  holy  season,  during  which  the  city  is 
not  allowed  to  be  polluted  by  public  executions  ;  and  often, 
when  the  vessel  is  detained  by  adverse  winds,  there  may  be 
a  very  considerable  delay.  As  I  was  saying,  the  ship  was 
crowned  on  the  day  before  the  trial,  and  this  was  the  reason 
why  Socrates  lay  in  prison  and  was  not  put  to  death  until  long 
after  he  was  condemned. 

Ech.  What  was  the  manner  of  his  death,  Phsedo  ?  What 
was  said  or  done  ?  And  which  of  his  friends  had  he  with  him? 
Or  were  they  not  allowed  by  the  authorities  to  be  present  ? 
And  did  'he  die  alone  ? 

Phced.  No ;  there  were  several  of  his  friends  with  him. 

Ech.  If  you  have  nothing  to  do,  I  wish  that  you  would  tell 
me  what  passed,  as  exactly  as  you  can. 

Phced.  I  have  nothing  to  do,  and  will  try  to  gratify  your 
wish.    For  to  me  too  there  is  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  have 


4  Theseus  (the'sus) :  a  legendary  Greek  hero,  one  of  whose  exploits  was 
the  slaying  of  a  monster  called  the  Minotaur  (mm'o-taur).  To  this  monster, 
imprisoned  in  a  cave  of  Crete,  Athens  had  to  send  a  yearly  sacrifice  of  seven 
youths  and  seven  maidens.  Theseus  went  voluntarily  as  one  of  these  victims 
to  Crete  and  with  the  help  of  Ariadne  (a'ri-ad'ne),  the  king's  daughter,  suc- 
ceeded in  slaying  the  Minotaur.  The  grateful  Athenians  preserved  the  ship 
in  which  Theseus  made  his  voyage  and  sent  in  it  every  year  envoys  and  a  sac- 
rifice to  Delos. 

Delos  (de'los),  a  small  island  of  the  /Egean,  was  sacred  to  the  worship  of 
Apollo,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  beneficent  of  the  Greek  gods,  who  is 
said  to  have  been  born  there.  The  priest  of  Apollo  decked  the  stern  of  the 
vessel  with  garlands  before  it  left  port 


PH^DO  419 

Socrates  brought  to  my  recollection  ;  whether  I  speak  myself 
or  hear  another  speak  of  him. 

Ech.  You  will  have  listeners  who  are  of  the  same  mind  with 
you,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  be  as  exact  as  you  can. 

Phced.  I  remember  the  strange  feeling  which  came  over 
me  at  being  with  him.  For  I  could  hardly  believe  that  I  was 
present  at  the  death  of  a  friend,  and  therefore  I  did  not  pity 
him,  Echecrates  j  his  mien  and  his  language  were  so  noble  and 
fearless  in  the  hour  of  death  that  to  me  he  appeared  blessed.  I 
thought  that  in  going  to  the  other  world  he  could  not  be  with- 
out a  divine  call,  and  that  he  would  be  happy,  if  any  man 
ever  was,  when  he  arrived  there ;  and  therefore  I  did  not 
pity  him  as  might  seem  natural  at  such  a  time.  But  neither 
could  I  feel  the  pleasure  which  I  usually  felt  in  philosophical 
discourse  (for  philosophy  was  the  theme  of  which  we  spoke). 
I  was  pleased  and  I  was  also  pained,  because  I  knew  that  he 
was  soon  to  die,  and  this  strange  mixture  of  feeling  was  shared 
by  us  all ;  we  were  laughing  and  weeping  by  turns,  espe- 
cially the  excitable  Apollodorus — you  know  the  sort  of  man  ? 

Ech.  Yes. 

Phced.  He  was  quite  overcome ;  and  I  myself,  and  all  of  us 
were  greatly  moved. 

Ech.  Who  were  present? 

Phced.  Of  native  Athenians  there  were,  besides  Apollo- 
dorus, Critobulus  and  his  father  Crito,  Hermogenes,  Epigenes, 
^Eschines,  and  Antisthenes ;  likewise  Ctesippus  of  the  deme 
of  Paeania,  Menexenus,  and  some  others ;  but  Plato,  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  was  ill. 

Ech.  Were  there  any  strangers  ? 

Phced.  Yes,  there  were ;  Simmias  the  Theban,  and  Cebes, 
and  Phaedondes  ;  Euclid  and  Terpsion,  who  came  from  Megara. 

Ech.   And  was  Aristippus  there,  and  Cleombrotus  ? 5 

6  Hermogenes  (her-moj'e-nez)  ;  Epigenes  and  ^Eschines  :  mentioned  in 
Apology,  33.  Antisthenes  (an-tTs'the-nez) ;  Ctesippus:  speaker  in  Euthyde- 
mus  ;  Menexenus  (me-nex'e  nus) ;  Phaedondes  (fe-don'dez)  ;  Euclid  (u'klld)  ; 
Terpsion  (terp'si-on)  ;  Aristippus  (ar-Ts-tip'us)  ;  Cleombrotus  (klS-5m'brd- 
tus).  Of  these  the  most  important  are  Euclid,  Aristippus  and  Antisthenes, 
each  of  whom  founded  a  school  of  philosophy.  These  are  called  minor 
Socratic  schools,  because  each  of  them  partially  represents  the  teaching  and 
spirit  of  Socrates.  Plato  perhaps  means  to  censure  Cleombrotus  and  Aristip- 
pus for  not  being  present,  although  so  near  (the  island  ^Egina  (e-ji'na)  and 
its  city  of  that  name  being  but  twenty  miles  from  Athens,  southwest).  Cicero 
says  that  Cleombrotus  after  reading  this  dialogue  killed  himself  by  throwing 
himself  into  the  sea. 


420  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

Phced.  No,  they  were  said  to  be  in  ^Egina. 

Ech.  Any  one  else  ? 

Phced.  I  think  that  these  were  about  all. 

Ech.  And  what  was  the  discourse  of  which  you  spoke  ? 

Phced.  I  will  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  endeavor  to  re- 
peat the  entire  conversation.  You  must  understand  that  we 
had  been  previously  in  the  habit  of  assembling  early  in  the 
morning  at  the  court  in  which  the  trial  was  held,  and  which  is 
not  far  from  the  prison.  There  we  remained  talking  with  one 
another  until  the  opening  of  the  prison  doors  (for  they  were  not 
opened  very  early),  and  then  went  in  and  generally  passed  the 
day  with  Socrates.  On  the  last  morning  the  meeting  was  ear- 
lier than  usual ;  this  was  owing  to  our  having  heard  on  the 
previous  evening  that  the  sacred  ship  had  arrived  from  Delos, 
and  therefore  we  agreed  to  meet  very  early  at  the  accustomed 
place.  On  our  going  to  the  prison,  the  jailer  who  answered  the 
door,  instead  of  admitting  us,  came  out  and  bade  us  wait  and 
he  would  call  us.  "  For  the  eleven," 6  he  said,  "  are  now  with 
Socrates  ;  they  are  taking  off  his  chains,  and  giving  orders  that 
he  is  to  die  to-day. ' '  He  soon  returned  and  said  that  we  might 
come  in.  On  entering  we  found  Socrates  just  released 
°  from  chains,  and  Xanthippe,7  whom  you  know,  sitting  by 
him,  and  holding  his  child  in  her  arms.  When  she  saw  us  she 
uttered  a  cry  and  said,  as  women  will:  "O  Socrates,  this  is 
the  last  time  that  either  you  will  converse  with  your  friends,  or 
they  with  you."  Socrates  turned  to  Crito  and  said  :  **  Crito, 
let  some  one  take  her  home."  Some  of  Crito' s  people  ac- 
cordingly led  her  away,  crying  out  and  beating  herself.  And 
when  she  was  gone,  Socrates,  sitting  up  on  the  couch,  began 
to  bend  and  rub  his  leg,  saying,  as  he  rubbed  :  How  singular 
is  the  thing  called  pleasure,  and  how  curiously  related  to  pain, 
which  might  be  thought  to  be  the  opposite  of  it  ;  for  they 

*  See  Apology,  note  45. 

'  Xanthippe  (zan-tTp'pe)  :  wife  of  Socrates.  Her  name  has  been  prover- 
bial in  ancient  and  modern  times  as  that  of  a  shrew.  Some  find  excuse  for 
her  in  her  husband's  neglect  of  his  private  affairs.  Xenophon  says  that  her 
son  became  embittered  on  account  of  his  mother's  severity  and  that  Socrates 
reasoned  with  the  son,  reminding  him  ot  the  mother's  many  acts  of  self-sac- 
rifice for  her  children.  In  the  incident  here  related,  her  grief  seems  to  us 
much  more  creditable  than  the  indifference  of  Socrates.  Compare  John 
xix.  26  and  27:  "  When  Jesus  therefore  saw  his  mother  and  the  disciple 
standing  by  whom  he  loved,  he  saith  to  his  mother,  Woman,  behold  thy  son  ! 
Then  saith  he  to  the  disciple,  Behold  thy  mother  I  And  from  that  hour  that 
disciple  took  her  unto  his  own  home." 


PH^EDO  42 1 

never  come  to  a  man  together,  and  yet  he  who  pursues  either 
of  them  is  generally  compelled  to  take  the  other.  They  are 
two,  and  yet  they  grow  together  out  of  one  head  or  stem ;  and 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  if  ^Esop8  had  noticed  them,  he 
would  have  made  a  fable  about  God  trying  to  reconcile  their 
strife,  and  when  he  could  not,  he  fastened  their  heads  together ; 
and  this  is  the  reason  why  when  one  comes  the  other  follows, 
as  I  find  in  my  own  case  pleasure  comes  following  after  the 
pain  in  my  leg  which  was  caused  by  the  chain. 

Upon  this  Cebes  said :  I  am  very  glad  indeed,  Socrates, 
that  you  mentioned  the  name  of  ^Esop.  For  that  reminds 
me  of  a  question  which  had  been  asked  by  others,  and  was 
asked  of  me  only  the  day  before  yesterday  by  Evenus  9  the 
poet,  and  as  he  will  be  sure  to  ask  again,  you  may  as  well  tell 
me  what  I  should  say  to  him,  if  you  would  like  him  to  have  an 
answer.  He  wanted  to  know  why  you  who  never  before  wrote 
a  line  of  poetry,  now  that  you  are  in  prison  are  putting  ^Esop 
into  verse,  and  also  composing  that  hymn  in  honor  of  Apollo. 

Tell  him,  Cebes,  he  replied,  that  I  had  no  idea  of  rivaling 
him  or  his  poems ;  which  is  the  truth,  for  I  knew  that  I  could 
not  do  that.  But  I  wanted  to  see  whether  I  could  purge  away 
a  scruple  which  I  felt  about  certain  dreams.  In  the  course 
of  my  life  I  have  often  had  intimations  in  dreams  "that  I 
should  make  music."  The  same  dream  came  to  me  some- 
times in  one  form,  and  sometimes  in  another,  but  always  say- 
ing the  same  or  nearly  the  same  words :  Make  and  cultivate 
music,  said  the  dream.  And  hitherto  I  had  imagined  that 
this  was  only  intended  to  exhort  and  encourage  me  in  the 
study  of  philosophy,  which  has  always  been  the  pursuit  , 
of  my  life,  and  is  the  noblest  and  best  of  music.10  The 
dream  was  bidding  me  do  what  I  was  already  doing,  in  the 
same  way  that  the  competitor  in  a  race  is  bidden  by  the 
spectators  to  run  when  he  is  already  running.  But  I  was  not 
certain  of  this,  as  the  dream  might  have  meant  music  in  the 
popular  sense  of  the  word,  and  being  under  sentence  of  death, 
and  the  festival  giving  me  a  respite,  I  thought  that  I  should 
be  safer  if  I  satisfied  the  scruple,  and,  in  obedience  to  the 

8  A  famous  writer  of  fables,  who  lived  about  600  B.C. ;  probably  a  native  of 
Phrygia  in  Asia  Minor. 

9  See  Apology,  note  8. 

"  See  Republic,  II. ,  note  17. 


422  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

dream,  composed  a  few  verses  before  I  departed.  And  first  I 
made  a  hymn  in  honor  of  the  god  of  the  festival,  and  then 
considering  that  a  poet,  if  he  is  really  to  be  a  poet  or  maker,11 
should  not  only  put  words  together  but  make  stories,  and  as  I 
have  no  invention,  I  took  some  fables  of  ^Esop,  which  I  had 
ready  at  hand  and  knew,  and  turned  them  into  verse.  Tell 
Evenus  this,  and  bid  him  be  of  good  cheer;  say  that  I  would 
have  him  come  after  me  if  he  be  a  wise  man,  and  not  tarry  j 
and  that  to-day  I  am  likely  to  be  going,  for  the  Athenians 
say  that  I  must. 

Simmias  said  :  What  a  message  for  such  a  man  !  having 
been  a  frequent  companion  of  his  I  should  say  that,  as  far  as 
I  know  him,  he  will  never  take  your  advice  unless  he  is 
obliged. 

Why,  said  Socrates.      Is  not  Evenus  a  philosopher  ? 

I  think  that  he  is,  said  Simmias. 

Then  he,  or  any  man  who  has  the  spirit  of  philosophy,  will 
be  willing  to  die,  though  he  will  not  take  his  own  life,  for  that 
is  held  not  to  be  right. 

Here  he  changed  his  position,  and  put  his  legs  off  the  couch 
on  to  the  ground,  and  during  the  rest  of  the  conversation  he 
remained  sitting. 

Why  do  you  say,  inquired  Cebes,  that  a  man  ought  not  to 
take  his  own  life,  but  that  the  philosopher  will  be  ready  to  fol- 
low the  dying  ? 

Socrates  replied  :  And  have  you,  Cebes  and  Simmias,  who 
are  acquainted  with  Philolaus,12  never  heard  him  speak  of 
this? 

I  never  understood  him,  Socrates. 

My  words,  too,  are  only  an  echo ;  but  I  am  very  willing  to 
say  what  I  have  heard  :  and  indeed,  as  I  am  going  to  another 
place,  I  ought  to  be  thinking  and  talking  of  the  nature  of  the 
pilgrimage  which  I  am  about  to  make.  What  can  I  do  better 
in  the  interval  between  this  and  the  setting  of  the  sun  ? 13 

Then  tell  me,  Socrates,  why  is  suicide  held  not  to  be  right  ? 
as  I  have  certainly  heard  Philolaus  affirm  when  he  was  staying 


11  The  Greek  word  for  poet  means,  literally,  maker. 

12  Philolaus  (fil-o-la'us)  :  a  distinguished  philosopher,  a  disciple  of  Pythag- 
oras and  the  instructor  of  Simmias  and  Cebes.  See  Phaedo,  note  i,  on  Sim- 
mias. 

13  Athenian  law  permitted  no  executions  in  the  day-time. 


YKJEDO  423 

with  us  at  Thebes14;  and  there  are  others  who  say  the  same, 
although  none  of  them  has  ever  made  me  understand       , 
him. 

But  do  your  best,  replied  Socrates,  and  the  day  may  come 
when  you  will  understand.  I  suppose  that  you  wonder  why, 
as  most  things  which  are  evil  may  be  accidentally  good,  this 
is  to  be  the  only  exception  (for  may  not  death,  too,  be  better 
than  life  in  some  cases  ?),  and  why,  when  a  man  is  better 
dead,  he  is  not  permitted  to  be  his  own  benefactor,  but  must 
wait  for  the  hand  of  another. 

By  Jupiter  !  15  yes,  indeed,  said  Cebes  laughing,  and  speak- 
ing in  his  native  Doric.16 

I  admit  the  appearance  of  inconsistency,  replied  Socrates, 
but  there  may  not  be  any  real  inconsistency  after  all  in  this. 
There  is  a  doctrine  uttered  in  secret 17  that  man  is  a  prisoner 
who  has  no  right  to  open  the  door  of  his  prison  and  run 
away ;  this  is  a  great  mystery  which  I  do  not  quite  under- 
stand. Yet  I  too  believe  that  the  gods  are  our  guardians, 
and  that  we  are  a  possession  of  theirs.     Do  you  not  agree  ? 

Yes,  I  agree  to  that,  said  Cebes. 

And  if  one  of  your  own  possessions,  an  ox  or  an  ass,  for 
example,  took  the  liberty  of  putting  himself  out  of  the  way 
when  you  had  given  no  intimation  of  your  wish  that  he  should 
die,  would  you  not  be  angry  with  him,  and  would  you  not 
punish  him  if  you  could? 

Certainly,  replied  Cebes. 

Then  there  may  be  reason  in  saying  that  a  man  should 
wait,  and  not  take  his  own  life  until  God  summons  him,  as 
he  is  now  summoning  me. 

Yes,  Socrates,  said  Cebes,  there  is  surely  reason  in  that. 
And  yet  how  can  you  reconcile  this  seemingly  true  belief  that 
God  is  our  guardian  and  we  his  possessions,  with  that  willing- 
ness to  die  which  we  were  attributing  to  the  philosopher? 
That  the  wisest  of  men  should  be  willing  to  leave  this  service 
in  which  they  are  ruled  by  the  gods  who  are  the  best  of 
rulers,  is  not  reasonable,  for  surely  no  wise  man  thinks  that 
when  set  at  liberty  he  can  take  better  care  of  himself  than 

14  See  Protagoras,  note  34. 

15  Jupiter :  the  chief  Roman  deity,  corresponding  to  the  Greek  Zeus. 
18  Doric  (d5r'ik)  :  a  dialect  of  the  Greek  language. 

17  This  probably  refers  to  a  saying  of  Pythagoras,  whose  more  important 
teachings  were  kept  secret  from  all  except  his  disciples. 


424  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

the  gods  take  of  him.  A  fool  may  perhaps  think  this — he 
may  argue  that  he  had  better  run  away  from  his  master,  not 
considering  that  his  duty  is  to  remain  to  the  end,  and  not  to 
run  away  from  the  good,  and  that  there  is  no  sense  in  his 
running  away.  But  the  wise  man  will  want  to  be  ever  with 
him  who  is  better  than  himself.  Now  this,  Socrates,  is  the 
reverse  of  what  was  just  now  said  ;  for  upon  this  view  the 
wise  man  should  sorrow  and  the  fool  rejoice  at  passing  out  of 
life.     . 

The  earnestness  of  Cebes  seemed  to  please  Socrates.  Here, 
said  he,  turning  to  us,  is  a  man  who  is  always  inquiring,  and 
.  is  not  to  be  convinced  all  in  a  moment,  nor  by  every 
argument. 

And  in  this  case,  added  Simmias,  his  objection  does  ap- 
pear to  me  to  have  some  force.  For  what  can  be  the  mean- 
ing of  a  truly  wise  man  wanting  to  fly  away  and  lightly  leave 
a  master  who  is  better  than  himself.  And  I  rather  imagine 
that  Cebes  is  referring  to  you ;  he  thinks  that  you  are  too 
ready  to  leave  us,  and  too  ready  to  leave  the  gods  who,  as 
you  acknowledge,  are  our  good  rulers. 

Yes,  replied  Socrates  ;  there  is  reason  in  that.  And  this 
indictment  you  think  that  I  ought  to  answer  as  if  I  were  in 
court  ? 

That  is  what  we  should  like,  said  Simmias. 

Then  I  must  try  to  make  a  better  impression  upon  you  than 
I  did  when  defending  myself  before  the  judges.  For  I  am 
quite  ready  to  acknowledge,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  that  I  ought 
to  be  grieved  at  death,  if  I  were  not  persuaded  that  I  am  go- 
ing to  other  gods  who  are  wise  and  good  (of  this  I  am  as  cer- 
tain as  I  can  be  of  anything  of  the  sort),  and  to  men  departed 
(though  I  am  not  so  certain  of  this)  who  are  better  than  those 
whom  I  leave  behind  ;  and  therefore  I  do  not  grieve  as  I 
might  have  done,  for  I  have  good  hope  that  there  is  yet 
something  remaining  for  the  dead,  and  as  has  been  said  of 
old,  some  far  better  thing  for  the  good  than  for  the  evil. 

But  do  you  mean  to  take  away  your  thoughts  with  you, 
Socrates,  said  Simmias  ?  Will  you  not  communicate  them  to 
us? — the  benefit  is  one  in  which  we  too  may  hope  to  share. 
Moreover,  if  you  succeed  in  convincing  us,  that  will  be  an 
answer  to  the  charge  against  yourself. 

I  will  do  my  best,  replied  Socrates.     But  you  must  first  let 


PH^EDO  425 

me  hear  what  Crito  wants  ;  he  was  going  to  say  something  to 
me. 

Only  this,  Socrates,  replied  Crito  :  the  attendant  who  is  to 
give  you  the  poison  has  been  telling  me  that  you  are  not  to 
talk  much,  and  he  wants  me  to  let  you  know  this  ;  for  that  by 
talking,  heat  is  increased,  and  this  interferes  with  the  action 
of  the  poison  j  those  who  excite  themselves  are  sometimes 
obliged  to  drink  the  poison  two  or  three  times. 

Then,  said  Socrates,  let  him  mind  his  business  and  be  pre- 
pared to  give  the  poison  two  or  three  times,  if  necessary  j 
that  is  all. 

I  was  almost  certain  that  you  would  say  that,  replied 
Crito  ;  but  I  was  obliged  to  satisfy  him. 

Never  mind  him,  he  said. 

And  now  I  will  make  answer  to  you,  O  my  judges,  and 
show  that  he  who  has  lived  as  a  true  philosopher  has  reason  to 
be  of  good  cheer  when  he  is  about  to  die,  and  that  after  , 
death  he  may  hope  to  receive  the  greatest  good  in  the 
other  world.  And  how  this  may  be,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  I  will 
endeavor  to  explain.  For  I  deem  that  the  true  disciple  of 
philosophy  is  likely  to  be  misunderstood  by  other  men ;  they 
do  not  perceive  that  he  is  ever  pursuing  death  and  dying ; 
and  if  this  is  true,  why,  having  had  the  desire  of  death  all  his 
life  long,  should  he  repine  at  the  arrival  of  that  which  he  has 
been  always  pursuing  and  desiring  ? 

Simmias  laughed  and  said  :  Though  not  in  a  laughing  hu- 
mor, I  swear  that  I  cannot  help  laughing,  when  I  think  what 
the  wicked  world  will  say  when  they  hear  this.  They  will 
say  that  this  is  very  true,  and  our  people  at  home  will  agree 
with  them  in  saying  that  the  life  which  philosophers  desire  is 
truly  death,  and  that  they  have  found  them  out  to  be  deserv- 
ing of  the  death  which  they  desire. 

And  they  are  right,  Simmias,  in  saying  this,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  words  "  They  have  found  them  out,"  for  they 
have  not  found  out  what  is  the  nature  of  this  death  which  the 
true  philosopher  desires,  or  how  he  deserves  or  desires  death. 
But  let  us  leave  them  and  have  a  word  with  ourselves  :  Do  we 
believe  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  death  ? 

To  be  sure,  replied  Simmias. 

And  is  this  anything  but  the  separation  of  soul  and  body  ? 
And  being  dead  is  the  attainment  of  this  separation  when  the 


426  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

soul  exists  in  herself,  and  is  parted  from  the  body  and  the 
body  is  parted  from  the  soul — that  is  death  ? 

Exactly  :   that  and  nothing  else,  he  replied. 

And  what  do  you  say  of  another  question,  my  friend,  about 
which  I  should  like  to  have  your  opinion,  and  the  answer  to 
which  will  probably  throw  light  on  our  present  inquiry  :  Do 
you  think  that  the  philosopher  ought  to  care  about  the  pleas- 
ures— if  they  are  to  be  called  pleasures — of  eating  and  drink- 
ing? 

Certainly  not,  answered  Simmias. 

And  what  do  you  say  of  the  pleasures  of  love — should  he 
care  about  them  ? 

By  no  means. 

And  will  he  think  much  of  the  other  ways  of  indulging  the 
body,  for  example,  the  acquisition  of  costly  raiment,  or  san- 
dals, or  other  adornments  of  the  body  ?  Instead  of  caring 
about  them,  does  he  not  rather  despise  anything  more  than 
nature  needs  ?     What  do  you  say  ? 

I  should  say  that  the  true  philosopher  would  despise  them. 

Would  you  not  say  that  he  is  entirely  concerned  with  the 
soul  and  not  with  the  body  ?  He  would  like,  as  far  as  he 
can,  to  be  quit  of  the  body  and  turn  to  the  soul. 

That  is  true. 

In  matters  of  this  sort  philosophers,  above  all  other  men, 
may  be  observed  in  every  sort  of  way  to  dissever  the  soul 
from  the  body. 

That  is  true. 

Whereas,  Simmias,  the  rest  of  the  world  are  of  opinion  that 
,  a  life  which  has  no  bodily  pleasures  and  no  part  in  them 
is  not  worth  having ;  but  that  he  who  thinks  nothing 
of  bodily  pleasures  is  almost  as  though  he  were  dead. 

That  is  quite  true. 

What  again  shall  we  say  of  the  actual  acquirement  of  knowl- 
edge ? — is  the  body,  if  invited  to  share  in  the  inquiry,  a  hin- 
derer  or  a  helper  ?  I  mean  to  say,  have  sight  and  hearing 
any  truth  in  them  ?  Are  they  not,  as  the  poets  are  always 
telling  us,  inaccurate  witnesses?  and  yet,  if  even  they  are  in- 
accurate and  indistinct,  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  other  senses  ? 
— for  you  will  allow  that  they  are  the  best  of  them  ? 

Certainly,  he  replied. 

Then  when  does  the  soul  attain  truth  ? — for  in  attempting 


VtijEbO  427 

to  consider  anything  in  company  with  the  body  she  is  ob- 
viously deceived. 

Yes,  that  is  true. 

Then  must  not  existence  be  revealed  to  her  in  thought,  if 
at  all? 

Yes. 

And  thought  is  best  when  the  mind  is  gathered  into  her- 
self and  none  of  these  things  trouble  her — neither  sounds  nor 
sights  nor  pain  nor  any  pleasure, — when  she  has  as  little  as 
possible  to  do  with  the  body,  and  has  no  bodily  sense  or  feel- 
ing, but  is  aspiring  after  being  ? 

That  is  true. 

And  in  this  the  philosopher  dishonors  the  body;  his  soul 
runs  away  from  the  body  and  desires  to  be  alone  and  by  her- 
self? 

That  is  true. 

Well,  but  there  is  another  thing,  Simmias  :  Is  there  or  is 
there  not  an  absolute  justice  ? 

Assuredly  there  is. 

And  an  absolute  beauty  and  absolute  good  ? 

Of  course. 

But  did  you  ever  behold  any  of  them  with  your  eyes  ? 

Certainly  not. 

Or  did  you  ever  reach  them  with  any  other  bodily  sense  ? 
(and  I  speak  not  of  these  alone,  but  of  absolute  greatness,  and 
health,  and  strength,  and  of  the  essence  or  true  nature  of 
everything).  Has  the  reality  of  them  ever  been  perceived  by 
you  through  the  bodily  organs  ?  or  rather,  is  not  the  nearest 
approach  to  the  knowledge  of  their  several  natures  made  by 
him  who  so  orders  his  intellectual  vision  as  to  have  the  most 
exact  conception  of  the  essence  of  that  which  he  considers  ? 

Certainly. 

And  he  attains  to  the  knowledge  of  them  in  their  highest 
purity  who  goes  to  each  of  them  with  the  mind  alone,  not 
allowing  when  in  the  act  of  thought  the  intrusion  or  ,, 
introduction  of  sight  or  any  other  sense  in  the  company 
of  reason,  but  with  the  very  light  of  the  mind  in  her  clear- 
ness penetrates  into  the  very  light  of  truth  in  each ;  he  has 
got  rid,  as  far  as  he  can,  of  eyes  and  ears  and  of  the  whole 
body,  which  he  conceives  of  only  as  a  disturbing  element, 
hindering  the  soul  from  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  when  in 


428  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

company  with  her — is  not  this  the  sort  of  man  who,  if  ever 
man  did,  is  likely  to  attain  the  knowledge  of  existence? 

There  is  admirable  truth  in  that,  Socrates,  replied  Simmias. 

And  when  they  consider  all  this,  must  not  true  philoso- 
phers make  a  reflection,  of  which  they  will  speak  to  one 
another  in  such  words  as  these :  We  have  found,  they  will 
say,  a  path  of  speculation  which  seems  to  bring  us  and  the 
argument  to  the  conclusion,  that  while  we  are  in  the  body, 
and  while  the  soul  is  mingled  with  this  mass  of  evil,  our  de- 
sire will  not  be  satisfied,  and  our  desire  is  of  the  truth.  For 
the  body  is  a  source  of  endless  trouble  to  us  by  reason  of  the 
mere  requirement  of  food ;  and  also  is  liable  to  diseases  which 
overtake  and  impede  us  in  the  search  after  truth  :  and  by 
filling  us  so  full  of  loves,  and  lusts,  and  fears,  and  fancies, 
and  idols,  and  every  sort  of  folly,  prevents  our  ever  having, 
as  people  say,  so  much  as  a  thought.  For  whence  come 
wars,  and  fightings,  and  factions  ?  whence  but  from  the  body 
and  the  lusts  of  the  body  ?  For  wars  are  occasioned  by  the 
love  of  money,  and  money  has  to  be  acquired  for  the  sake 
and  in  the  service  of  the  body ;  and  in  consequence  of  all 
these  things  the  time  which  ought  to  be  given  to  philosophy 
is  lost.  Moreover,  if  there  is  time  and  an  inclination  tow- 
ard philosophy,  yet  the  body  introduces  a  turmoil  and  con- 
fusion and  fear  into  the  course  of  speculation,  and  hinders  us 
from  seeing  the  truth ;  and  all  experience  shows  that  if  we 
would  have  pure  knowledge  of  anything  we  must  be  quit  of 
the  body,  and  the  soul  in  herself  must  behold  all  things  in 
themselves  :  then  I  suppose  that  we  shall  attain  that  which 
we  desire,  and  of  which  we  say  that  we  are  lovers,  and  that 
is  wisdom ;  not  while  we  live,  but  after  death,  as  the  argu- 
ment shows ;  for  if  while  in  company  with  the  body,  the  soul 
cannot  have  pure  knowledge,  one  of  two  things  seems  to  fol- 
low— either  knowledge  is  not  to  be  attained  at  all,  or,  if  at 
,  all,  after  death.  For  then,  and  not  till  then,  the  soul 
7  will  be  in  herself  alone  and  without  the  body.  In  this 
present  life,  I  reckon  that  we  make  the  nearest  approach  to 
knowledge  when  we  have  the  least  possible  concern  or  in- 
terest in  the  body,  and  are  not  saturated  with  the  bodily 
nature,  but  remain  pure  until  the  hour  when  God  himself  is 
pleased  to  release  us.  And  then  the  foolishness  of  the  body 
will  be  cleared  away  and  we  shall  be  pure  and  hold  converse 


PH^EDO  429 

with  other  pure  souls,  and  know  of  ourselves  the  clear  light 
everywhere ;  and  this  is  surely  the  light  of  truth.  For  no 
impure  thing  is  allowed  to  approach  the  pure.  These  are  the 
sort  of  words,  Simmias,  which  the  true  lovers  of  wisdom  can- 
not help  saying  to  one  another,  and  thinking.  You  will 
agree  with  me  in  that  ? 

Certainly,  Socrates. 

But  if  this  is  true,  O  my  friend,  then  there  is  great  hope 
that,  going  whither  I  go,  I  shall  there  be  satisfied  with  that 
which  has  been  the  chief  concern  of  you  and  me  in  our  past 
lives.  And  now  that  the  hour  of  departure  is  appointed  to 
me,  this  is  the  hope  with  which  I  depart,  and  not  I  only, 
but  every  man  who  believes  that  he  has  his  mind  purified. 

Certainly,  replied  Simmias. 

And  what  is  purification  but  the  separation  of  the  soul  from 
the  body,  as  I  was  saying  before  ;  the  habit  of  the  soul  gather- 
ing and  collecting  herself  into  herself,  out  of  all  the  courses 
of  the  body;  the  dwelling  in  her  own  place  alone,  as  in  an- 
other life,  so  also  in  this,  as  far  as  she  can ;  the  release  of 
the  soul  from  the  chains  of  the  body  ? 

Very  true,  he  said. 

And  what  is  that  which  is  termed  death,  but  this  very  sep- 
aration and  release  of  the  soul  from  the  body? 

To  be  sure,  he  said. 

And  the  true  philosophers,  and  they  only,  study  and  are 
eager  to  release  the  soul.  Is  not  the  separation  and  release  of 
the  soul  from  the  body  their  especial  study? 

That  is  true. 

And  as  I  was  saying  at  first,  there  would  be  a  ridiculous 
contradiction  in  men  studying  to  live  as  nearly  as  they  can  in 
a  state  of  death,  and  yet  repining  when  death  comes. 

Certainly. 

Then  Simmias,  as  the  true  philosophers  are  ever  studying 
death,  to  them,  of  all  men,  death  is  the  least  terrible.  Look 
at  the  matter  in  this  way :  how  inconsistent  of  them  to  have 
been  always  enemies  of  the  body,  and  wanting  to  have  the 
soul  alone,  and  when  this  is  granted  to  them,  to  be  trembling 
and  repining;  instead  of  rejoicing  at  their  departing  to  ,~ 
that  place  where,  when  they  arrive,  they  hope  to  gain 
that  which  in  life  they  loved  (and  this  was  wisdom),  and  at 
the  same  time  to  be  rid  of  the  company  of  their  enemy. 


430  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Many  a  man  has  been  willing  to  go  to  the  world  below  in 
the  hope  of  seeing  there  an  earthly  love,  or  wife,  or  son,  and 
conversing  with  them.  And  will  he  who  is  a  true  lover  of 
wisdom,  and  is  persuaded  in  like  manner  that  only  in  the 
world  below  he  can  worthily  enjoy  her,  still  repine  at  death  ? 
Will  he  not  depart  with  joy  ?  Surely,  he  will,  my  friend,  if 
he  be  a  true  philosopher.  For  he  will  have  a  firm  conviction 
that  there  only,  and  nowhere  else,  he  can  find  wisdom  in  her 
purity.  And  if  this  be  true,  he  would  be  very  absurd,  as  I 
was  saying,  if  he  were  to  fear  death. 

He  would  indeed,  replied  Simmias. 

And  when  you  see  a  man  who  is  repining  at  the  approach 
of  death,  is  not  his  reluctance  a  sufficient  proof  that  he  is  not 
a  lover  of  wisdom,  but  a  lover  of  the  body,  and  probably  at 
the  same  time  a  lover  of  either  money  or  power,  or  both  ? 

That  is  very  true,  he  replied. 

There  is  a  virtue,  Simmias,  which  is  named  courage.  Is 
not  that  a  special  attribute  of  the  philosopher  ? 

Certainly. 

Again,  there  is  temperance.  Is  not  the  calm,  and  control, 
and  disdain  of  the  passions  which  even  the  many  call  tem- 
perance, a  quality  belonging  only  to  those  who  despise  the 
body,  and  live  in  philosophy  ? 

That  is  not  to  be  denied. 

For  the  courage  and  temperance  of  other  men,  if  you  will 
consider  them,  are  really  a  contradiction. 

How  is  that,  Socrates  ? 

Well,  he  said,  you  are  aware  that  death  is  regarded  by  men 
in  general  as  a  great  evil. 

That  is  true,  he  said. 

And  do  not  courageous  men  endure  death  because  they  are 
afraid  of  yet  greater  evils  ? 

That  is  true. 

Then  all  but  the  philosophers  are  courageous  only  from  fear, 
and  because  they  are  afraid  ;  and  yet  that  a  man  should  be 
courageous  from  fear,  and  because  he  is  a  coward,  is  surely  a 
strange  thing. 

Very  true. 

And  are  not  the  temperate  exactly  in  the  same  case  ?  They 
are  temperate  because  they  are  intemperate, — which  may  seem 
to  be  a  contradiction,  but  is  nevertheless  the  sort  of  thing  which 


VHJEDO  431 

happens  with  this  foolish  temperance.  For  there  are  pleasures 
which  they  must  have,  and  are  afraid  of  losing  ;  and  therefore 
they  abstain  from  one  class  of  pleasures  because  they  are  over- 
come by  another:  and  whereas  intemperance  is  defined  as  , 
1 '  being  under  the  dominion  of  pleasure, ' '  they  overcome 
only  because  they  are  overcome  by  pleasure.  And  that  is  what  I 
mean  by  saying  that  they  are  temperate  through  intemperance. 

That  appears  to  be  true. 

Yet  the  exchange  of  one  fear  or  pleasure  or  pain  for  another 
fear  or  pleasure  or  pain,  which  are  measured  like  coins,  the 
greater  with  the  less,  is  not  the  exchange  of  virtue.  O  my 
dear  Simmias,  is  there  not  one  true  coin  for  which  all  things 
ought  to  exchange?  —  and  that  is  wisdom18;  and  only  in  ex- 
change for  this,  and  in  company  with  this,  is  anything  truly 
bought  or  sold,  whether  courage  or  temperance  or  justice.  And 
is  not  all  true  virtue  the  companion  of  wisdom,  no  matter  what 
fears  or  pleasures  or  other  similar  goods  or  evils  may  or  may 
not  attend  her  ?  But  the  virtue  which  is  made  up  of  these 
goods,  when  they  are  severed  from  wisdom  and  exchanged  with 
one  another,  is  a  shadow  of  virtue  only,  nor  is  there  any  free- 
dom or  health  or  truth  in  her ;  but  in  the  true  exchange  there 
is  a  purging  away  of  all  these  things,  and  temperance,  and  jus- 
tice, and  courage,  and  wisdom  herself,  are  a  purgation  of  them. 
And  I  conceive  that  the  founders  of  the  mysteries  19  had  a  real 
meaning  and  were  not  mere  triflers  when  they  intimated  in  a 
figure  long  ago  that  he  who  passed  unsanctified  and  uninitiated 
into  the  world  below  will  live  in  a  slough,  but  that  he  who  ar- 
rives there  after  initiation  and  purification  will  dwell  with  the 
gods.  For  ''many,"  as  they  say  in  the  mysteries,  "are  the 
thyrsus-bearers,  but  few  are  the  mystics, "  *  —  meaning,  as  I 

I?  Compare  Isaiah  lv.  2  :  "Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which  is 
not  bread  and  your  labor  for  that  which  satisfieth  not."  Compare  also  Pro- 
tagoras, 349-360. 

Also  Matt.  xiii.  45  and  46:  "  Again  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto 
a  merchantman,  seeking  goodly  pearls  :  who,  when  he  had  found  one  pearl 
of  great  price,  went  and  sold  all  that  he  had,  and  bought  it." 

19  See  Symposium,  note  32. 

M  Dionysus  or  Bacchus,  god  of  wine,  was  one  of  the  gods  in  whose  worship 
mysteries  were  employed.  His  devotees  carried  a  wand  or  thyrsus.  Among 
these  wand-bearers  were  many  whose  participation  in  the  rites  was  merely 
formal,  in  comparison  with  whom  the  true  worshippers  were  few.  Hence 
arose  the  proverb  quoted  by  Socrates.  According  to  his  interpretation,  only 
philosophers  are  completely  purified  and  initiated  into  an  understanding  of 
divine  things.  Compare  Matt.  xxii.  14:  "  For  many  are  called  but  few  are 
chosen." 


432  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

interpret  the  words,  the  true  philosophers.  In  the  number  of 
whom  I  have  been  seeking,  according  to  my  ability,  to  find  a 
place  during  my  whole  life  ;  whether  I  have  sought  in  a  right 
way  or  not,  and  whether  I  have  succeeded  or  not,  I  shall  truly 
know  in  a  little  while,  if  God  will,  when  I  myself  arrive  in  the 
other  world  :  that  is  my  belief.  And  now  Simmias  and  Cebes, 
I  have  answered  those  who  charge  me  with  not  grieving  or  re- 
pining at  parting  from  you  and  my  masters  in  this  world  ;  and 
I  am  right  in  not  repining,  for  I  believe  that  I  shall  find  other 
masters  and  friends  who  are  as  good  in  the  world  below.  But 
all  men  cannot  receive  this,  and  I  shall  be  glad  if  my  words 
have  any  more  success  with  you  than  with  the  judges  of  Athe- 
nians. 

Cebes  answered  :  I  agree,  Socrates,  in  the  greater  part  of 
what  you  say.  But  in  what  relates  to  the  soul,  men  are  apt  to 
be  incredulous  ;  they  fear  that  when  she  leaves  the  body 
her  place  may  be  nowhere,  and  that  on  the  very  day  of 
death  she  may  be  destroyed  and  perish, — immediately  on  her 
release  from  the  body,  issuing  forth  like  smoke  or  air  and  van- 
ishing away  into  nothingness.  For  if  she  could  only  hold  to- 
gether and  be  herself  after  she  was  released  from  the  evils  of 
the  body,  there  would  be  good  reason  to  hope,  Socrates,  that 
what  you  say  is  true.  But  much  persuasion  and  many  argu- 
ments are  required  in  order  to  prove  that  when  the  man  is  dead 
the  soul  yet  exists,  and  has  any  force  or  intelligence. 

True,  Cebes,  said  Socrates ;  and  shall  I  suggest  that  we  talk 
a  little  of  the  probabilities  of  these  things  ? 

I  am  sure,  said  Cebes,  that  I  should  greatly  like  to  know 
your  opinion  about  them. 

I  reckon,  said  Socrates,  that  no  one  who  heard  me  now,  not 
even  if  he  were  one  of  my  old  enemies,  the  comic  poets,21  could 
accuse  me  of  idle  talking  about  matters  in  which  I  have  no 
concern.  Let  us  then,  if  you  please,  proceed  with  the  in- 
quiry. 

[Socrates  recalls  an  ancient  doctrine  that  the  souls  of  men 
pass  after  death  into  the  other  world,  whence  they  return  and 

21  See  Apology,  note  5.  Eupolis  (Q'po-lis),  another  comic  poet  of  the  day, 
said  of  Socrates  :  "  I  hate  Socrates,  that  prating  beggar,  who  pays  great  at- 
tention, forsooth,  to  all  these  other  things,  but  as  to  how  withal  he  shall  be  fed, 
to  this  he  gives  no  heed  at  all."  Other  instances  also  are  known  of  the  en- 
mity of  the  poets  for  Socrates. 


PIL^EDO  433 

are  born  again  into  this  world.  This  generation  of  the  living 
from  the  dead  is  analogous  to  other  processes  in  nature.  Just 
as  sleeping  passes  into  waking  and  waking  into  sleeping, 
as  the  greater  becomes  the  less  and  the  less  grows  into  7°" 
the  greater,  as  all  opposites  pass,  the  one  into  the  other, 
so  life  passes  into  death  and  death  again  becomes  life.  To 
complete  the  circle  of  nature  it  is  necessary  that  death  should 
generate  life.] 

My  dear  Cebes,  if  all  things  which  partook  of  life  were  to 
die,  and  after  they  were  dead  remained  in  the  form  of  death, 
and  did  not  come  to  life  again,  all  would  at  last  die,  and 
nothing  would  be  alive — how  could  this  be  otherwise?  For 
if  the  living  spring  from  any  others  who  are  not  the  dead,  and 
they  die,  must  not  all  things  at  last  be  swallowed  up  in  death? 

There  is  no  escape  from  that,  Socrates,  said  Cebes ;  and  I 
think  that  what  you  say  is  entirely  true. 

Yes,  he  said,  Cebes,  I  entirely  think  so  too ;  and  we  are 
not  walking  in  a  vain  imagination  :  but  I  am  confident  in  the 
belief  that  there  truly  is  such  a  thing  as  living  again,  and  that 
the  living  spring  from  the  dead,  and  that  the  souls  of  the  dead 
are  in  existence,  and  that  the  good  souls  have  a  better  portion 
than  the  evil. 

Cebes  added  :  Your  favorite  doctrine,  Socrates,  that  knowl- 
edge is  simply  recollection,  if  true,  also  necessarily  implies  a 
previous  time  in  which  we  learned  that  which  we  now 
recollect.     But  this  would  be  impossible  unless  our  soul 
was  in  some  place  before  existing  in  the  human  form  * ;  here 
then  is  another  argument  of  the  soul's  immortality. 

But  tell  me,  Cebes,  said  Simmias  interposing,  what  proofs 
are  given  of  this  doctrine  of  recollection  ?  I  am  not  very  sure 
at  this  moment  that  I  remember  them. 

One  excellent  proof,  said  Cebes,  is  afforded  by  questions. 
If  you  put  a  question  to  a  person  in  a  right  way,  he  will  give 

22  <■  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting  ; 
The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar. 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  do  we  come 
From  God,  who  is  our  home." 

—  Wordsworth's  "  Intimations  of  Immortality." 
28 


434  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

a  true  answer  of  himself,  but  how  could  he  do  this  unless  there 
were  knowledge  and  right  reason  already  in  him  ?  And  this 
is  most  clearly  shown  when  he  is  taken  to  a  diagram 23  or  to 
anything  of  that  sort. 

But  if,  said  Socrates,  you  are  still  incredulous,  Simmias,  I 
would  ask  you  whether  you  may  not  agree  with  me  when  you 
look  at  the  matter  in  another  way;  I  mean,  if  you  are  still 
incredulous  as  to  whether  knowledge  is  recollection  ? 

Incredulous,  I  am  not,  said  Simmias  ;  but  I  want  to  have 
this  doctrine  of  recollection  brought  to  my  own  recollection, 
and,  from  what  Cebes  has  said,  I  am  beginning  to  recollect 
and  be  convinced  :  but  I  should  still  like  to  hear  what  more 
you  have  to  say. 

[Socrates  gives  a  proof  of  the  doctrine  as  follows  :  What  we 
recollect  we  must  have  known  at  some  previous  time.     This 

recollection  is  due  to  a  power  of  mind  called  association. 
73"     For  example,  a  lyre  or  a  garment  may  remind  us  of  the 

person  who  has  used  the  one  or  worn  the  other.  Simmias 
may  make  us  think  of  Cebes  because  they  are  frequently  in  one 
another's  company.  Likewise,  the  imperfect  equality  of  two 
pieces  of  wood  or  stone  suggests  the  idea  of  perfect  equality. 
Indeed  we  must  have  the  standard  of  perfect  equality  before 
we  can  compare  two  things.  Now  where  did  we  get  our  idea 
of  perfect  equality.  Surely  not  through  our  experience  with 
material  objects  in  this  life,  for  no  two  material  objects  are 
absolutely  alike.  Their  appearance  is  changing  and  they  serve 
only  to  recall  the  idea  of  absolute  likeness  which  is  ever  the 
same.  Moreover  the  knowledge  of  perfect  equality  is  not 
given  to  us  at  birth,  for  all  men  do  not  possess  it.  It  comes 
to  none  save  by  a  process  of  remembering,  and  what  we  call 
learning  is  only  recollection.  Clearly  then,  our  knowledge 
of  perfect  equality  and  likewise  of  perfect  beauty,  perfect 
goodness,  perfect  justice,  and  the  like  must  have  been  acquired 
by  us  before  we  came  into  this  world.  Therefore  our  souls 
must  have  existed  and  had  intelligence  before  birth.] 

23  In  a  passage  from  Plato's  Meno,  which  is  often  quoted  in  educational 
journals  to  illustrate  the  Socratic  method  of  questioning,  a  slave  boy  who 
cannot  read,  answers  "of  himself,"  a  series  of  simple  questions  about  a 
geometrical  diagram.  The  boy  is  led  in  this  way  to  see  for  himself  the 
truth  of  a  certain  geometrical  proposition.  Socrates  argues  that  since  the 
boy  has  not  learned  these  things  in  this  life,  he  must  be  remembering  them 
from  a  former  life. 


PH^EDO  435 

Then  may  we  not  say,  Simmias,  that  if,  as  we  are  always 
repeating,  there  is  an  absolute  beauty,  and  goodness,  and  es- 
sence in  general,  and  to  this,  which  is  now  discovered  to  be 
a  previous  condition  of  our  being,  we  refer  all  our  sensations, 
and  with  this  compare  them — assuming  this  to  have  a  prior 
existence,  then  our  souls  must  have  had  a  prior  existence,  but 
if  not,  there  would  be  no  force  in  the  argument.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  if  these  absolute  ideas  existed  before  we  were 
born,  then  our  souls  must  have  existed  before  we  were  born, 
and  if  not  the  ideas,  then  not  the  souls. 

Yes,  Socrates  j  I  am  convinced  that  there  is  precisely  the 
same  necessity  for  the  existence  of  the  soul  before  birth,  and 
of  the  essence  of  which  you  are  speaking :  and  the  ar- 
gument arrives  at  a  result  which  happily  agrees  with  my 
own  notion.  For  there  is  nothing  which  to  my  mind  is  so 
evident  as  that  beauty,  good,  and  other  notions  of  which  you 
were  just  now  speaking,  have  a  most  real  and  absolute  exist- 
ence ;  and  I  am  satisfied  with  the  proof. 

Well,  but  is  Cebes  equally  satisfied  ?  for  I  must  convince 
him  too. 

I  think,  said  Simmias,  that  Cebes  is  satisfied  :  although  he 
is  the  most  incredulous  of  mortals,  yet  I  believe  that  he  is 
convinced  of  the  existence  of  the  soul  before  birth.  But  that 
after  death  the  soul  will  continue  to  exist  is  not  yet  proven 
even  to  my  own  satisfaction.  I  cannot  get  rid  of  the  feeling 
of  the  many  to  which  Cebes  was  referring — the  feeling  that 
when  the  man  dies  the  soul  may  be  scattered,  and  that  this 
may  be  the  end  of  her.  For  admitting  that  she  may  be  gen- 
erated and  created  in  some  other  place,  and  may  have  existed 
before  entering  the  human  body,  why  after  having  entered  in 
and  gone  out  again  may  she  not  herself  be  destroyed  and 
come  to  an  end  ? 

Very  true,  Simmias,  said  Cebes  ;  that  our  soul  existed  be- 
fore we  were  born  was  the  first  half  of  the  argument,  and  this 
appears  to  have  been  proven ;  that  the  soul  will  exist  after 
death  as  well  as  before  birth  is  the  other  half  of  which  the 
proof  is  still  wanting,  and  has  to  be  supplied. 

But  that  proof,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  has  been  already  given, 
said  Socrates,  if  you  put  the  two  arguments  together — I  mean 
this  and  the  former  one,  in  which  we  admitted  that  every- 
thing living  is  born  of  the  dead.     For  if  the  soul  existed  be- 


43^  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

fore  birth,  and  in  coming  to  life  and  being  born  can  be  born 
only  from  death  and  dying,  must  she  not  after  death  continue 
to  exist,  since  she  has  to  be  born  again  ?  surely  the  proof 
which  you  desire  has  been  already  furnished.  Still  I  suspect 
that  you  and  Simmias  would  be  glad  to  probe  the  argument 
further ;  like  children,  you  are  haunted  with  a  fear  that  when 
the  soul  leaves  the  body,  the  wind  may  really  blow  her  away 
and  scatter  her  ;  especially  if  a  man  should  happen  to  die  in 
stormy  weather  and  not  when  the  sky  is  calm. 

Cebes  answered  with  a  smile  :  Then,  Socrates,  you  must 
argue  us  out  of  our  fears — and  yet,  strictly  speaking,  they  are 
not  our  fears,  but  there  is  a  child  within  us  to  whom  death  is 
a  sort  of  hobgoblin ;  him  too  we  must  persuade  not  to  be 
afraid  when  he  is  alone  with  him  in  the  dark. 

Socrates  said  :  Let  the  voice  of  the  charmer  24  be  applied 
daily  until  you  have  charmed  him  away. 

And  where  shall  we  find  a  good  charmer  of  our  fears,  Soc- 
rates, when  you  are  gone  ? 

Hellas,  he  replied,  is  a  large  place,  Cebes,  and  has  many 

good  men,  and  there  are  barbarous  races  not  a  few  :  seek  for 

«       him  among  them  all,  far  and  wide,  sparing  neither  pains 

nor  money  ;  for  there  is  no  better   way  of  using  your 

money.     And  you  must  not  forget  to  seek  for  him  among 

yourselves  too  ;  for  he  is  nowhere  more  likely  to  be  found. 

The  search,  replied  Cebes,  shall  certainly  be  made.  And 
now,  if  you  please,  let  us  return  to  the  point  of  the  argument 
at  which  we  digressed. 

[Socrates  leads  the  discussion.  Another  argument  against 
the  dissolution  of  the  soul  at  death  is  found  in  the  nature  of 

the  soul  itself.  Only  those  things  which  are  compound 
^0"     or  composite,  like  the  objects  of  sense,   are  naturally 

capable  of  being  dissolved  and  changed.  But  the  soul, 
not  being  compound  is  indivisible  and  therefore  indestructi- 
ble. It  belongs  to  that  class  of  unchanging  things  which  are 
also  invisible  like  the  essence  of  beauty  or  equality.  It  is  only 
when  the  soul  makes  use  of  the  senses  that  she  is  dragged  by 
the  body  down  into  the  region  of  changeable  things.] 

24  As  incantations  are  employed  against  hobgoblins,  wise  words  must  be 
the  charm  against  foolish  fears.  In  another  dialogue  Plato  speaks  of  the 
soul  being  healed  by  the  charm  of  fair  words. 


PHJEVO  437 

But  when  returning  into  herself  she  reflects  ;  then  she  passes 
into  the  realm  of  purity,  and  eternity,  and  immortality,  and 
unchangeableness,  which  are  her  kindred,  and  with  them  she 
ever  lives,  when  she  is  by  herself  and  is  not  let  or  hindered  ; 
then  she  ceases  from  her  erring  ways,  and  being  in  commun- 
ion with  the  unchanging  is  unchanging.  And  this  state  of  the 
soul  is  called  wisdom  ? 

[Again  when  we  compare  the  functions  of  the  soul  and  body 
we  find  that  the  soul  is  akin  to  the  divine  and  the  body  to  the 
mortal.  For  the  soul  rules  and  governs,  the  body  obeys  and 
serves.] 

The  soul  is  in  the  very  likeness  of  the  divine,  and  im- 
mortal, and  intelligible,  and  uniform,  and  indissoluble,  and 
unchangeable ;  and  the  body  is  in  the  very  likeness  of  the 
human,  and  mortal,  and  unintelligible,  and  multiform,  and 
dissoluble,  and  changeable. 

[Even  the  body  may  be  preserved  almost  entire  for  ages  by 
the  embalmer's  art.] 

And  are  we  to  suppose  that  the  soul,  which  is  invisible,  in 
passing  to  the  true  Hades,  which  like  her  is  invisible,  and  pure, 
and  noble,  and  on  her  way  to  the  good  and  wise  God,25 
whither,  if  God  will,  my  soul  is  also  soon  to  go, — that  the 
soul,  I  repeat,  if  this  be  her  nature  and  origin,  is  blown  away 
and  perishes  immediately  on  quitting  the  body,  as  the  many 
say  ?  That  can  never  be,  my  dear  Simmias  and  Cebes.  The 
truth  rather  is,  that  the  soul  which  is  pure  at  departing  draws 
after  her  no  bodily  taint,  having  never  voluntarily  had  con- 
nection with  the  body,  which  she  is  ever  avoiding,  herself 
gathered  into  herself  (for  such  abstraction  has  been  the  study 
of  her  life).  And  what  does  this  mean  but  that  she  has  been 
a  true  disciple  of  philosophy,  and  has  practiced  how  to  die 
easily  ?  And  is  not  philosophy  the  practice  of  death  ?  a 
Certainly.  8l 

That  soul,  I  say,  herself  invisible,  departs  to  the  invisible 
world, — to  the  divine  and  immortal  and  rational :  thither  ar- 
riving, she  lives  in  bliss  and  is  released  from  the  error  and  folly 

38  "  And  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it" — Eccl.  xii.  7. 


43$  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

of  men,  their  fears  and  wild  passions  and  all  other  human  ills, 
and  forever  dwells,  as  they  say  of  the  initiated,  in  company 
with  the  gods  ?     Is  not  this  true,  Cebes  ? 

Yes,  said  Cebes,  beyond  a  doubt. 

But  the  soul  which  has  been  polluted,  and  is  impure  at  the 
time  of  her  departure,  and  is  the  companion  and  servant  of  the 
body  always,  and  is  in  love  with  and  fascinated  by  the  body 
and  by  the  desires  and  pleasures  of  the  body,  until  she  is  led 
to  believe  that  the  truth  only  exists  in  a  bodily  form,  which  a 
man  may  touch  and  see  and  taste  and  use  for  the  purposes  of 
his  lusts, — the  soul,  I  mean,  accustomed  to  hate  and  fear  and 
avoid  the  intellectual  principle,  which  to  the  bodily  eye  is 
dark  and  invisible,  and  can  be  attained  only  by  philosophy ; 
do  you  suppose  that  such  a  soul  as  this  will  depart  pure  and 
unalloyed  ? 

That  is  impossible,  he  replied. 

She  is  engrossed  by  the  corporeal,  which  the  continual  as- 
sociation and  constant  care  of  the  body  have  made  natural  to 
her. 

[The  souls  of  the  wicked,  loath  to  leave  the  body  and  fearful 
of  the  world  below,  must  wander  about  tombs 26  until 

g^"  they  are  imprisoned  in  another  body.  And  some  enter 
the  bodies  of  birds  or  animals  which  have  natures  like 

their  own.     Others  which  are  less  evil   pass  again  into  the 

forms  of  men.] 

But  he  who  is  a  philosopher  or  lover  of  learning,  and  is  en- 
tirely pure  at  departing,  is  alone  permitted  to  reach  the  gods.27 
And  this  is  the  reason,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  why  the  true 
votaries  of  philosophy  abstain  from  all  fleshly  lusts,  and  endure 
and  refuse  to  give  themselves  up  to  them, — not  because  they 
fear  poverty  or  the  ruin  of  their  families,  like  the  lovers  of 

98  "  The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 

Imbodies,  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 

The  divine  property  of  her  first  being. 

Such  are  those  thick  and  gloomy  shadows  damp 

Oft  seen  in  charnel  vaults  and  sepulchres 

Lingering  and  sitting  by  a  new-made  grave 

As  loath  to  leave  the  body  that  it  loved, 

And  linked  itself  by  carnal  sensuality 

To  a  degenerate  and  degraded  state." 

— Milton  s  "Comus." 
87  Compare  Phsedrus,  249. 


PrLEDO  439 

money,  and  the  world  in  general;  nor  like  the  lovers  of 
power  and  honor,  because  they  dread  the  dishonor  or  disgrace 
of  evil  deeds. 

No,  Socrates,  that  would  not  become  them,  said  Cebes. 

No  indeed,  he  replied ;  and  therefore  they  who  have  a  care 
of  their  souls,  and  do  not  merely  live  in  the  fashions  of  the 
body,  say  farewell  to  all  this ;  they  will  not  walk  in  the  ways 
of  the  blind  :  and  when  Philosophy  offers  them  purification 
and  release  from  evil,  they  feel  that  they  ought  not  to  resist 
her  influence,  and  to  her  they  incline,  and  whither  she  leads 
they  follow  her. 

What  do  you  mean,  Socrates? 

I  will  tell  you,  he  said.  The  lovers  of  knowledge  are  con- 
scious that  their  souls,  when  philosophy  receives  them,  are 
simply  fastened  and  glued  to  their  bodies  :  the  soul  is  only  able 
to  view  existence  through  the  bars  of  a  prison,28  and  not  in 
her  own  nature  ;  she  is  wallowing  in  the  mire  of  all  ignorance  ; 
and  philosophy,  seeing  the  terrible  nature  of  her  confinement, 
and  that  the  captive  through  desire  is  led  to  conspire  in  „ 
her  own  captivity  (for  the  lovers  of  knowledge  are  aware 
that  this  was  the  original  state  of  the  soul,  and  that  when  she 
was  in  this  state  philosophy  received  and  gently  counseled 
her,  and  wanted  to  release  her,  pointing  out  to  her  that  the 
eye  is  full  of  deceit,  and  also  the  ear  and  the  other  senses,  and 
persuading  her  to  retire  from  them  in  all  but  the  necessary 
use  of  them,  and  to  be  gathered  up  and  collected  into  herself, 
and  to  trust  only  to  herself  and  her  own  intuitions  of  absolute 
existence,  and  mistrust  that  which  comes  to  her  through  others 
and  is  subject  to  vicissitude) — philosophy  shows  her  that  this 
is  visible  and  tangible,  but  that  what  she  sees  in  her  own 
nature  is  intellectual  and  invisible.  And  the  soul  of  the  true 
philosopher  thinks  that  she  ought  not  to  resist  this  deliverance, 
and  therefore  abstains  from  pleasures  and  desires  and  pains 
and  fears,  as  far  as  she  is  able ;  reflecting  that  when  a  man  has 
great  joys  or  sorrows  or  fears  or  desires,  he  suffers  from  them, 
not  the  sort  of  evil  which  might  be  anticipated — as  for  exam- 
ple, the  loss  of  his  health  or  properly  which  he  has  sacrificed 
to  his  lusts — but  he  has  suffered  an  evil  greater  far,  which  is  the 
greatest  and  worst  of  all  evils,  and  one  of  which  he  never  thinks. 

28  "  For  now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly." — i  Cor.  xiii.  12.  Compare 
Rep.,  VII.,  514  and  following. 


440  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

And  what  is  that,  Socrates?  said  Cebes. 

Why  this :  When  the  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain  in  the  soul 
is  most  intense,  all  of  us  naturally  suppose  that  the  object  of 
this  intense  feeling  is  then  plainest  and  truest :  but  this  is  not 
the  case. 

Very  true. 

And  this  is  the  state  in  which  the  soul  is  most  inthralled  by 
the  body. 

How  is  that  ? 

Why,  because  each  pleasure  and  pain  is  a  sort  of  nail 
which  nails  and  rivets  the  soul  to  the  body,  and  engrosses  her 
and  makes  her  believe  that  to  be  true  which  the  body  affirms 
to  be  true  j  and  from  agreeing  with  the  body  and  having  the 
same  delights  she  is  obliged  to  have  the  same  habits  and 
ways,  and  is  not  likely  ever  to  be  pure  at  her  departure  to 
the  world  below,  but  is  always  saturated  with  the  body ;  so 
that  she  soon  sinks  into  another  body  and  there  germinates 
and  grows,  and  has  therefore  no  part  in  the  communion  of  the 
divine  and  pure  and  simple. 

That  is  most  true,  Socrates,  answered  Cebes. 

And  this,  Cebes,  is  the  reason  why  the  true  lovers  of  knowl- 
edge are  temperate  and  brave  j  and  not  for  the  reason  which 
the  world  gives. 
g  Certainly  not. 

4  Certainly  not !  For  not  in  that  way  does  the  soul  of  a 
philosopher  reason  ;  she  will  not  ask  philosophy  to  release  her 
in  order  that  when  released  she  may  deliver  herself  up  again  to 
the  thralldom  of  pleasures  and  pains,  doing  a  work  only  to  be 
undone  again,  weaving  instead  of  unweaving  her  Penelope's 
web.29  But  she  will  make  herself  a  calm  of  passion,  and  follow 
Reason,  and  dwell  in  her,  beholding  the  true  and  divine 
(which  is  not  matter  of  opinion),  and  thence  derive  nourish- 
ment. Thus  she  seeks  to  live  while  she  lives,  and  after  death 
she  hopes  to  go  to  her  own  kindred  and  to  be  freed  from  hu- 
man ills.  Never  fear,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  that  a  soul  which 
has  been  thus  nourished  and  has  had  these  pursuits,  will  at  her 
departure  from  the  body  be  scattered  and  blown  away  by  the 
winds  and  be  nowhere  and  nothing. 

29  Penelope  (pe-nel'6-pe)  :  wife  of  the  legendary  hero  Odysseus.  During 
his  absence  at  the  Trojan  War  she  was  beset  by  many  suitors.  To  put  them 
off,  she  promised  to  make  choice  as  soon  as  she  finished  a  web  she  was 
weaving  ;  but  each  night  she  unraveled  what  she  wove  during  the  day. 


PKLEDO  441 

When  Socrates  had  done  speaking,  for  a  considerable  time 
there  was  silence ;  he  himself  and  most  of  us  appeared  to  be 
meditating  on  what  had  been  said  ;  only  Cebes  and  Simmias 
spoke  a  few  words  to  one  another.  And  Socrates  observing 
this  asked  them  what  they  thought  of  the  argument,  and 
whether  there  was  anything  wanting  ?  For,  said  he,  much  is 
still  open  to  suspicion  and  attack,  if  any  one  were  disposed  to 
sift  the  matter  thoroughly.  If  you  are  talking  of  something 
else  I  would  rather  not  interrupt  you,  but  if  you  are  still 
doubtful  about  the  argument  do  not  hesitate  to  say  exactly 
what  you  think,  and  let  us  have  anything  better  which  you 
can  suggest ;  and  if  I  am  likely  to  be  of  any  use,  allow  me  to 
help  you. 

Simmias  said :  I  must  confess,  Socrates,  that  doubts  did 
arise  in  our  minds,  and  each  of  us  was  urging  and  inciting  the 
other  to  put  the  question  which  we  wanted  to  have  answered 
and  which  neither  of  us  liked  to  ask,  fearing  that  our  impor- 
tunity might  be  troublesome  under  present  circumstances. 

Socrates  smiled,  and  said  :  O  Simmias,  how  strange  that  is ; 
I  am  not  very  likely  to  persuade  other  men  that  I  do  not  re- 
gard my  present  situation  as  a  misfortune,  if  I  am  unable  to 
persuade  you,  and  you  will  keep  fancying  that  I  am  at  all 
more  troubled  now  than  at  any  other  time.  Will  you  not  allow 
that  I  have  as  much  of  the  spirit  of  prophecy  in  me  as  the 
swans  ?  °°  For  they,  when  they  perceive  that  they  must  die, 
having  sung  all  their  life  long,  do  then  sing  more  than  ~ 
ever,  rejoicing  in  the  thought  that  they  are  about  to  go 
away  to  the  god  whose  ministers  they  are.  But  men,  because 
they  are  themselves  afraid  of  death,  slanderously  affirm  of  the 
swans  that  they  sing  a  lament  at  the  last,  not  considering  that 
no  bird  sings  when  cold,  or  hungry,  or  in  pain,  not  even  the 
nightingale,  nor  the  swallow,  nor  yet  the  hoopoe  ;  which  are 
said  indeed  to  tune  a  lay  of  sorrow,  although  I  do  not  believe 
this  to  be  true  of  them  any  more  than  of  the  swans.  But  be- 
cause they  are  sacred  to  Apollo  and  have  the  gift  of  proph- 
ecy and  anticipate  the  good  things  of  another  world,  there- 
fore they  sing  and  rejoice  in  that  day  more  than  they  ever  did 
before.     And  I  too,  believing  myself  to  be  the  consecrated 

30  The  swan  was  sacred  to  Apollo  and  said  to  be  gifted  with  the  power  of 
song  and  of  prophecy.  The  myth  of  the  swan's  dying  song  has  come  down 
to  modern  times. 


442  PLATO  THE  TEACHER 

servant  of  the  same  God,  and  the  fellow-servant  of  the  swans, 
and  thinking  that  I  have  received  from  my  master  gifts  of 
prophecy  which  are  not  inferior  to  theirs,  would  not  go  out  of 
life  less  merrily  than  the  swans.  Cease  to  mind  then  about 
this,  but  speak  and  ask  anything  which  you  like,  while  the 
eleven  magistrates  of  Athens  allow. 

[Since  Socrates  is  so  willing  to  continue  the  discussion, 
Simmias  and  Cebes  state  their  difficulties, — Simmias  first  as 
follows :  One  may  say  that  harmony  is  invisible,  in- 
g^"  corporeal,  perfect,  and  divine ;  yet  when  the  lyre  is 
destroyed,  the  harmony  ceases.  How  then  can  the  soul 
which  has  the  same  relation  to  the  body  as  harmony  to  the 
lyre,  survive  the  body  ? 

Cebes  also  uses  a  figure  to  express  his  doubt.  It  is  reason- 
able to  say  that  a  man  lasts  longer  than  the  garment  which 
he  wears.  And  yet  a  wearer,  though  he  may  make  and  wear 
out  many  coats  is  himself  outlived  by  the  last.  Now  the  body 
is  the  garment  of  the  soul ;  and  the  soul  may  wear  out  many 
bodies  in  one  life  and  many  more  in  the  successive  lives  into 
which  it  is  born.  But  how  can  we  prove  that  the  soul  may 
not  become  weary  and  at  last  utterly  perish  in  one  of  its 
deaths,  and  so  be  outlived  by  the  last  body? 

Here  Phaedo  interrupts  the  narration  of  his  story  to  say  to 
Echecrates :] 

All  of  us,  as  we  afterwards  remarked  to  one  another,  had  an 
unpleasant  feeling  at  hearing  them  say  this.  When  we  had 
been  so  firmly  convinced  before,  now  to  have  our  faith  shaken 
seemed  to  introduce  a  confusion  and  uncertainty,  not  only 
into  the  previous  argument,  but  into  any  future  one ;  either 
we  were  not  good  judges,  or  there  were  no  real  grounds  of 
belief. 

Ech.  There  I  feel  with  you — indeed  I  do,  Phsedo,  and  when 
you  were  speaking,  I  was  beginning  to  ask  myself  the  same 
question  :  What  argument  can  I  ever  trust  again  ?  For  what 
could  be  more  convincing  than  the  argument  of  Socrates, 
which  has  now  fallen  into  discredit?  That  the  soul  is  a  har- 
mony is  a  doctrine  which  has  always  had  a  wonderful  attrac- 
tion for  me,  and,  when  mentioned,  came  back  to  me  at  once, 
as  my  own  original   conviction.     And  now   I  must  begin 


VHJEVO  443 

again  and  find  another  argument  which  will  assure  me  that 
when  the  man  is  dead  the  soul  dies  not  with  him.  Tell  me,  I 
beg,  how  did  Socrates  proceed  ?  Did  he  appear  to  share  the 
unpleasant  feeling  which  you  mention  ?  or  did  he  receive  the 
interruption  calmly  and  give  a  sufficient  answer  ?  Tell  us,  as 
exactly  as  you  can,  what  passed. 

Phced.  Often,  Echecrates,  as  I  have  admired  Socrates,  I 
never  admired  him  more  than  at  that  moment.  That  he  ~ 
should  be  able  to  answer  was  nothing,  but  what  aston- 
ished me  was,  first,  the  gentle  and  pleasant  and  approving 
manner  in  which  he  regarded  the  words  of  the  young  men, 
and  then  his  quick  sense  of  the  wound  which  had  been  inflicted 
by  the  argument,  and  his  ready  application  of  the  healing  art. 
He  might  be  compared  to  a  general  rallying  his  defeated  and 
broken  army,  urging  them  to  follow  him  and  return  to  the 
field  of  argument. 

Ech.   How  was  that  ? 

Phced.  You  shall  hear,  for  I  was  close  to  him  on  his  right 
hand,  seated  on  a  sort  of  stool,  and  he  on  a  couch  which  was 
a  good  deal  higher.  Now  he  had  a  way  of  playing  with  my 
hair,  and  then  he  smoothed  my  head,  and  pressed  the  hair 
upon  my  neck,  and  said  :  To-morrow,  Phsedo,  I  suppose  that 
these  fair  locks  of  yours  will  be  severed.31 

Yes,  Socrates,  I  suppose  that  they  will,  I  replied. 

Not  so,  if  you  will  take  my  advice. 

What  shall  I  do  with  them  ?  I  said. 

To-day,  he  replied,  and  not  to-morrow,  if  this  argument 
dies  and  cannot  be  brought  to  life  again  by  us,  you  and  I  will 
both  shave  our  locks :  and  if  I  were  you,  and  could  not  main- 
tain my  ground  against  Simmias  and  Cebes,  I  would  myself 
take  an  oath,  like  the  Argives,  not  to  wear  hair  any  more  until 
I  had  renewed  the  conflict  and  defeated  them.32 

Yes,  I  said,  but  Heracles  himself  is  said  not  to  be  a  match 
for  two.33 

31  As  a  token  of  mourning,  according  to  the  custom. 

32  Argives  (ar'jivz)  :  a  branch  of  the  Greek  people  inhabiting  a  small  dis- 
trict of  Greece,  south-west  of  Athens.  Herodicus  tells  how  once  when  the 
Argives  were  defeated,  and  lost  a  city  in  war,  they  took  an  oath  not  to  cut 
their  hair  till  their  loss  had  been  retrieved. 

33  See  Euthydemus,  note  20.  One  of  his  labors  was  the  destroying  of  the 
Hydra,  a  monstrous  water-snake.  While  fighting  with  this  he  was  attacked 
by  a  crab  and  was  compelled  to  call  on  Iolaus  (f'o-laus),  his  nephew,  for  help. 
Hence  the  proverb — Heracles  is  not  a  match  for  two. 


444  fcLATO  THE  TEACHER 

Summon  me  then,  he  said,  and  I  will  be  your  Iolaus  until 
the  sun  goes  down. 

I  summon  you  rather,  I  said,  not  as  Heracles  summoning 
Iolaus,  but  as  Iolaus  might  summon  Heracles. 

That  will  be  all  the  same,  he  said.  But  first  let  us  take 
care  that  we  avoid  a  danger. 

And  what  is  that?  I  said. 

Thcdanger  of  becoming  misologists,  he  replied,  which  is  one 
of  the  very  worst  things  that  can  happen  to  us.  For  as  there 
are  misanthropists  or  haters  of  men,  there  are  also  misologists 
or  haters  of  ideas,  and  both  spring  from  the  same  cause,  which 
is  ignorance  of  the  world.  Misanthropy  arises  from  the  too 
great  confidence  of  inexperience ;  you  trust  a  man  and  think 
him  altogether  true  and  good  and  faithful,  and  then  in  a  little 
while  he  turns  out  to  be  false  and  knavish ;  and  then  another 
and  another,  and  when  this  has  happened  several  times  to  a 
man,  especially  within  the  circle  of  his  own  most  trusted 
friends,  as  he  deems  them,  and  he  has  often  quarreled  with 
them,  he  at  last  hates  all  men,  and  believes  that  no  one  has  any 
good  in  him  at  all.  I  dare  say  that  you  must  have  observed 
this. 

Yes,  I  said. 

And  is  not  this  discreditable?     The  reason  is,  that  a  man, 

having  to  deal  with  other  men,  has  no  knowledge  of  them  ; 

for  if  he  had  knowledge,  he  would  have  known  the  true 

state  of  the  case,  that  few  are  the  good  and  few  the  evil, 

and  that  the  great  majority  are  in  the  interval  between  them. 

How  do  you  mean?  I  said. 

I  mean,  he  replied,  as  you  might  say  of  the  very  large  and 
very  small,  that  nothing  is  more  uncommon  than  a  very  large 
or  very  small  man  ;  and  this  applies  generally  to  all  extremes, 
whether  of  great  and  small,  or  swift  and  slow,  or  fair  and  foul, 
or  black  and  white  :  and  whether  the  instances  you  select  be 
men  or  dogs  or  anything  else,  few  are  the  extremes,  but  many 
are  in  the  mean  between  them.     Did  you  never  observe  this  ? 

Yes,  I  said,  I  have. 

And  do  you  not  imagine,  he  said,  that  if  there  were  a  com- 
petition of  evil,  the  first  in  evil  would  be  found  to  be  very 
few? 

Yes,  that  is  very  likely,  I  said. 

Yes,  that  is  very  likely,  he  replied  ;  not  that  in  this  respect 


ph^do  445 

arguments  are  like  men — there  I  was  led  on  by  you  to  say 
more  than  I  had  intended ;  but  the  point  of  comparison  was, 
that  when  a  simple  man  who  has  no  skill  in  dialectics  be- 
lieves an  argument  to  be  true  which  he  afterward  imagines  to 
be  false,  whether  really  false  or  not,  and  then  another  and  an- 
other, he  has  no  longer  any  faith  left,  and  great  disputers,  as 
you  know,  come  to  think  at  last  that  they  have  grown  to  be 
the  wisest  of  mankind  ;  for  they  alone  perceive  the  utter  un- 
soundness and  instability  of  all  arguments,  or  indeed,  of  all 
things,  which,  like  the  currents  in  the  Euripus,*1  are  going 
up  and  down  in  never-ceasing  ebb  and  flow. 

That  is  quite  true,  I  said. 

Yes,  Phaedo,  he  replied,  and  very  melancholy  too,  if  there 
be  such  a  thing  as  truth  or  certainty  or  power  of  knowing  at 
all,  that  a  man  should  have  lighted  upon  some  argument  or 
other  which  at  first  seemed  true  and  then  turned  out  to  be 
false,  and  instead  of  blaming  himself  and  his  own  want  of 
wit,  because  he  is  annoyed,  should  at  last  be  too  glad  to  trans- 
fer the  blame  from  himself  to  arguments  in  general ;  and  for- 
ever afterwards  should  hate  and  revile  them,  and  lose  the 
truth  and  knowledge  of  existence. 

Yes,  indeed,  I  said  ;  that  is  very  melancholy. 

Let  us  then,  in  the  first  place,  he  said,  be  careful  of  ad- 
mitting into  our  souls  the  notion  that  there  is  no  truth  or 
health  or  soundness  in  any  arguments  at  all  ;  but  let  us  rather 
say  that  there  is  as  yet  no  health  in  us,  and  that  we  must  quit 
ourselves  like  men  and  do  our  best  to  gain  health, — you  and 
all  other  men  with  a  view  to  the  whole  of  your  future 
life,  and  I  myself  with  a  view  to  death.  For  at  this 
moment  I  am  sensible  that  I  have  not  the  temper  of  a  philoso- 
pher ;  like  the  vulgar,  I  am  only  a  partisan.  For  the  partisan, 
when  he  is  engaged  in  a  dispute,  cares  nothing  about  the 
rights  of  the  question,  but  is  anxious  only  to  convince  his 
hearers  of  his  own  assertions.  And  the  difference  between 
him  and  me  at  the  present  moment  is  only  this, — that  where- 
as he  seeks  to  convince  his  hearers  that  what  he  says  is  true, 
I  am  rather  seeking  to  convince  myself ;  to  convince  my 
hearers  is  a  secondary  matter  with  me.     And  do  but  see  how 

34  Euripus  (u-ri'pus)  :  the  narrow  strait  which  separates  Boeotia  (be- 
6'shl-a),  a  province  of  Greece,  from  the  island  Euboea  (u-be'a),  where  the 
ancients  believed  that  the  current  changed  seven  times  a  day. 


44^  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

much  I  gain  by  this.  For  if  what  I  say  is  true,  then  I  do 
well  to  be  persuaded  of  the  truth,  but  if  there  be  nothing 
after  death,  still,  during  the  short  time  that  remains,  I  shall 
save  my  friends  from  lamentations,  and  my  ignorance  will  not 
last,  and  therefore  no  harm  will  be  done.  This  is  the  state  of 
mind,  Simmias  and  Cebes,  in  which  I  approach  the  argu- 
ment. And  I  would  ask  you  to  be  thinking  of  the  truth  and 
not  of  Socrates  :  agree  with  me,  if  I  seem  to  you  to  be  speak- 
ing the  truth  ;  or  if  not,  withstand  me  might  and  main,  that  I 
may  not  deceive  you  as  well  as  myself  in  my  enthusiasm,  and 
like  the  bee,  leave  my  sting  in  you  before  I  die. 
And  now  let  us  proceed,  he  said. 

[Socrates  returns  to  the  objection  of  Simmias  which  he  an- 
swers very  easily.  Harmony  cannot  exist  prior  to  the  instru- 
ment with  which  it  is  made.  We  must  first  have  the 
p3  lyre  and  strings.  Harmony  follows  last  of  all  as  an  ef- 
fect. Now  does  the  soul  follow  as  an  effect  of  the 
body?  Has  it  not  been  proved  that  the  soul  existed  before 
birth,  and  that  all  our  knowledge  is  but  recollection  of  what 
we  experienced  before  the  soul  entered  the  body?  Simmias 
acknowledged  that  his  theory  of  the  soul  as  a  harmony  must 
be  rejected  because  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  of 
preexistence  which  to  his  mind  has  been  proved  beyond  a 
doubt. 

Again,  Socrates  says,  while  one  harmony  may  be  more  or 
less  completely  a  harmony  than  another,  one  soul  is  no  more 
or  no  less  a  soul  than  another.  That  is,  a  harmony  admits  of 
degrees,  a  soul  does  not,  and  therefore  a  soul  is  not  a  harmony. 
Lastly,  how  can  the  soul  be  the  harmony  of  the  body  when  it 
continually  opposes  and  constrains  the  passions  ?  Harmony 
is  subject  to  the  lyre,  but  the  soul  is  leader  and  master  of  the 
body — "  a  far  diviner  thing  than  any  harmony." 

Socrates  turns  next  to  discuss  and  answer  the  objection  of 
Cebes,  which  he  says  involves  one  of  the  most  important  ques- 
tions of  philosophy,  namely,  how  things  come  into  being  and 
perish,  or  the  nature  of  generation  and  corruption.  Here  he 
digresses  to  tell  of  his  own  experience  when,  as  a  young  man, 
he  sought  to  know  the  causes  of  all  things — why  they  are  cre- 
ated and  why  destroyed.  His  investigations  and  speculations 
Jed  him  into  many  perplexities,  so  that  he  began  to  doubt 


ph^do  447 

even  the  most  commonplace  facts.  Then  he  heard  of  the 
philosopher  Anaxagoras,35  who  claimed  that  Mind  was  the 
cause  and  disposer  of  all  things.  Socrates  was  greatly  de- 
lighted at  this  notion,  and  thought  if  mind  were  the  disposer, 
surely  mind  would  dispose  all  for  the  best.  He  had  great 
hopes  that  the  new  teacher  would  satisfactorily  explain  to  him 
in  detail  all  that  he  had  been  seeking-  to  understand  and  prove 
how  everything  was  for  the  best  in  nature  and  in  man.  He 
continues:] 

What  hopes  I  had  formed,  and  how  grievously  was  I  disap- 
pointed !  As  I  proceeded,  I  found  my  philosopher  altogether 
forsaking  mind  or  any  other  principle  of  order,  but  having  re- 
course to  air,  and  ether,  and  water,  and  other  eccentricities.  I 
might  compare  him  to  a  person  who  began  by  maintaining 
generally  that  mind  is  the  cause  of  the  actions  of  Socrates,  but 
who,  when  he  endeavored  to  explain  the  causes  of  my  several 
actions  in  detail,  went  on  to  show  that  I  sit  here  because  my 
body  is  made  up  of  bones  and  muscles  j  and  the  bones,  as  he 
would  say,  are  hard  and  have  ligaments  which  divide  them,  and 
the  muscles  are  elastic,  and  they  cover  the  bones,  which  have 
also  a  covering  or  environment  of  flesh  and  skin  which  contains 
them  ;  and  as  the  bones  are  lifted  at  their  joints  by  the  con- 
traction or  relaxation  of  the  muscles,  I  am  able  to  bend  my 
limbs,  and  this  is  why  I  am  sitting  here  in  a  curved  posture  : 
that  is  what  he  would  say,  and  he  would  have  a  similar  expla- 
nation of  my  talking  to  you„  which  he  would  attribute  to  sound, 
and  air,  and  hearing,  and  he  would  assign  ten  thousand  other 
causes  of  the  same  sort,  forgetting  to  mention  the  true 
cause,  which  is,  that  the  Athenians  have  thought  fit  to 
condemn  me,  and  accordingly  I  have  thought  it  better  and 
more  right  to  remain  here  and  undergo  my  sentence  j  for  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  these  muscles  and  bones  of  mine  would 
have  gone  off  to  Megara  or  Bceotia,36 —  by  the  dog  of  Egypt 
they  would,  if  they  had  been  guided  only  by  their  own  idea  of 
what  was  best,  and  if  I  had  not  chosen  as  the  better  and  nobler 
part,  instead  of  playing  truant  and  running  away,  to  undergo 
any  punishment  which  the  state  inflicts.     There  is  surely  a 

38  See  Phaedrus,  note  55. 

89  Megara  (meg'a-ra)  :  a  town  twenty  miles  west  of  Athens. 


448  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

strange  confusion  of  causes  and  conditions  in  all  this.  It  may- 
be said,  indeed,  that  without  bones  and  muscles  and  the  other 
parts  of  the  body  I  cannot  execute  my  purposes.  But  to  say 
that  I  do  as  I  do  because  of  them,  and  that  this  is  the  way  in 
which  mind  acts,  and  not  from  the  choice  of  the  best,  is  a  very 
careless  and  idle  mode  of  speaking.  I  wonder  that  they  can- 
not distinguish  the  cause  from  the  condition,  which  the  many 
feeling  about  in  the  dark,  are  always  mistaking  and  misnaming. 
And  thus  one  man  makes  a  vortex  all  round  and  steadies  the 
earth  by  the  heaven  ;  another  gives  the  air  as  a  support  to  the 
earth,  which  is  a  sort  of  broad  trough.  Any  power  which  in 
disposing  them  as  they  are  disposes  them  for  the  best  never 
enters  into  their  minds,  nor  do  they  imagine  that  there  is  any 
superhuman  strength  in  that ;  they  rather  expect  to  find  an- 
other Atlas37  of  the  world  who  is  stronger  and  more  everlast- 
ing and  more  containing  than  the  good  is,  and  are  clearly  of 
opinion  that  the  obligatory  and  containing  power  of  the  good 
is  as  nothing  ;  and  yet  this  is  the  principle  which  I  would  fain 
learn  if  any  one  would  teach  me.  But  as  I  have  failed  either 
to  discover  myself,  or  to  learn  of  any  one  else,  the  nature  of 
the  best,  I  will  exhibit  to  you,  if  you  like,  what  I  have  found 
to  be  the  second  best  mode  of  inquiring  into  the  cause. 

[Failing  in  his  endeavor  to  comprehend  the  world  by  means 
of  the  senses,  Socrates  took  refuge  in  the  world  of  thought. 

By  reflection  he  arrived  at  a  principle  which  he  regarded 
j^I     as  indisputable.     Whatever  agreed  with  this  he  assumed 

to  be  true,  whatever  disagreed,  false.  He  wishes  now 
to  explain  what  he  means  by  this  principle  although  it  is 
nothing  new.  It  is  what  he  has  always  been  repeating  in 
his  doctrine  of  ideas.  He  believes  that  corresponding  to 
every  class  of  material  objects  or  qualities,  there  is  a  perfect 
and  eternal  being  which  he  calls  an  idea.  These  ideas  exist 
independently  of  the  world  of  sense,  apart  from  and  above  it. 
They  are  the  perfect  types  of  which  the  things  in  this  world 
are  imperfect  copies.  These  perfect  types  are  the  causes  of  the 
existence  of  their  earthly  copies.     For  example,    there  is  an 

37 Atlas:  An  ancient  Greek  divinity,  who  was  supposed  to  support  the 
heavens  on  his  shoulders.  Socrates  says  that  the  philosophers  referred  to 
expect  to  supplant  the  legendary  Atlas  by  a  physical  principle.  He  be- 
lieves that  the  true  Atlas  which  supports  all  things  is  the  Good. 


PH/EDO  449 

absolute  beauty,  an  absolute  greatness,  an  absolute  good,  and 
the  like.  Now  a  thing  can  be  beautiful  only  by  reason  of  its 
participation  in  the  absolute  or  perfect  beauty,  that  is,  the 
idea  of  beauty.  A  thing  is  made  good  or  great  only  by  the 
indwelling  of  the  idea  of  goodness  or  greatness.  Socrates  now 
applies  his  doctrine  of  ideas  to  the  question  of  the  soul's  im- 
mortality, as  follows  :  Ideas  which  are  opposite  in  character 
never  co-exist.  They  mutually  exclude  one  another  and  never 
pass  over  the  one  into  the  other.  Moreover,  things  in  which 
a  certain  idea  forever  abides,  will  never  admit  the  opposite  of 
that  idea.  For  example,  no  odd  number  will  ever  admit  the 
idea  of  the  even,  because  the  ideas  of  the  odd  and  the  even  are 
essentially  opposed.  So  the  soul,  whose  inseparable  attribute 
is  life,  will  never  admit  life's  opposite,  death.  Thus  the  soul 
is  shown  to  be  immortal,  and  since  immortal,  indestructible.] 

But  then,  O  my  friends,  he  said,  if  the  soul  is  really  immor- 
tal, what  care  should  be  taken  of  her,  not  only  in  respect  of 
the  portion  of  time  which  is  called  life,  but  of  eternity  !  And 
the  danger  of  neglecting  her  from  this  point  of  view  does  in- 
deed appear  to  be  awful.38  If  death  had  only  been  the  end  of 
all,  the  wicked  would  have  had  a  good  bargain  in  dying,  for 
they  would  have  been  happily  quit  not  only  of  their  body, 
but  of  their  own  evil  together  with  their  souls.  But  now,  as 
the  soul  plainly  appears  to  be  immortal,  there  is  no  release  or 
salvation  from  evil  except  the  attainment  of  the  highest  virt- 
ue and  wisdom.  For  the  soul  when  on  her  progress  to  the 
world  below  takes  nothing  with  her  but  nurture  and  educa- 
tion ;  which  are  indeed  said  greatly  to  benefit  or  greatly  to 
injure  the  departed,  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  pilgrimage  in 
the  other  world. 

For  after  death,  as  they  say,  the  genius  of  each  individual, 
to  whom  he  belonged  in  life,  leads  him  to  a  certain  place  in 
which  the  dead  are  gathered  together  for  judgment,  whence  , 
they  go  into  the  world  below,  following  the  guide,  who  is  ap- 
pointed to  conduct  them  from  this  world  to  the  other :  and 
when  they  have  there  received  their  due  and  remained  their 

38  "  For  what  is  a  man  profited  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul." — Matt.  xvi.  26. 

"Seeing  then  that  all  these  things  shall  be  dissolved,  what  manner  of 
persons  ought  ye  to  be  in  all  holy  conversation  and  godliness." — II.  Peter 
iii.  n. 

29 


450  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

time,  another  guide  brings  them  back  again  after  many  revo- 
lutions of  ages.  Now  this  journey  to  the  other  world  is  not, 
8  as  ^Eschylus  says  in  the  Telephus,39  a  single  and  straight 
path, — no  guide  would  be  wanted  for  that,  and  no  one 
could  miss  a  single  path  ;  but  there  are  many  partings  of  the 
road,  and  windings,  as  I  must  infer  from  the  rites  and  sacri- 
fices which  are  offered  to  the  gods  below  in  places  where  three 
ways  meet  on  earth.40  The  wise  and  orderly  soul  is  conscious 
of  her  situation,  and  follows  in  the  path  j  but  the  soul  which 
desires  the  body,  and  which,  as  I  was  relating  before,  has 
long  been  fluttering  about  the  lifeless  frame  and  the  world  of 
sight,  is  after  many  struggles  and  many  sufferings  hardly  and 
with  violence  carried  away  by  her  attendant  genius,  and  when 
she  arrives  at  the  place  where  the  other  souls  are  gathered,  if 
she  be  impure  and  have  done  impure  deeds,  or  been  concerned 
in  foul  murders  or  other  crimes  which  are  the  brothers  of 
these,  and  the  works  of  brothers  in  crime, — from  that  soul 
every  one  flees  and  turns  away ;  no  one  will  be  her  compan- 
ion, no  one  her  guide,  but  alone  she  wanders  in  extremity  of 
evil  until  certain  times  are  fulfilled,  and  when  they  are  ful- 
filled, she  is  borne  irresistibly  to  her  own  fitting  habitation  ; 
as  every  pure  and  just  soul  which  has  passed  through  life  in 
the  company  and  under  the  guidance  of  the  gods  has  also  her 
own  proper  home. 

[Socrates  gives  a  mythical  description  of  the  earth,  the  heav- 
ens, and  the  interior  of  the  earth  with  its  seas  and  rivers.  This 
is  followed  by  an  account  of  how  the  dead  are  judged. 
108-  Those  who  have   committed    the   greatest   crimes   are 

4  hurled  into  Tartarus  never  to  return.  Those  who  have 
lived  neither  well  nor  ill,  are  punished  for  their  wrong  deeds 
and  rewarded  for  the  good.  Those  who  have  led  holy  lives, 
especially  those  who  have  been  purified  by  philosophy,  live 
forever  in  mansions  fair  beyond  description. 

Socrates  continues  thus :] 

Wherefore,  Simmias,  seeing  all  these  things,  what  ought  not 
we  to  do  in  order  to  obtain  virtue  and  wisdom  in  this  life  ? 
Fair  is  the  prize,  and  the  hope  great. 

30  Telephus  (tel'e-fus)  :  a  lost  tragedy  by  ^Eschylus.   See  Rep.,  II.,  note  3. 
40  It  was  customary  to   perform  rites  once  a  month  in   honor  of  certain 
gods  of  the  lower  world.     These  ceremonies  took  place  at  road  crossings. 


PH^DO  45 1 

I  do  not  mean  to  affirm  that  the  description  which  I  have 
given  of  the  soul  and  her  mansions  is  exactly  true — a  man  of 
sense  ought  hardly  to  say  that.  But  I  do  say  that,  inasmuch  as 
the  soul  is  shown  to  be  immortal,  he  may  venture  to  think,  not 
improperly  or  unworthily,  that  something  of  the  kind  is  true. 
The  venture  is  a  glorious  one,  and  he  ought  to  comfort  himself 
with  words  like  these,  which  is  the  reason  why  I  lengthen  out 
the  tale.  Wherefore,  I  say,  let  a  man  be  of  good  cheer  about 
his  soul,  who  has  cast  away  the  pleasures  and  ornaments  of  the 
body  as  alien  to  him,  and  rather  hurtful  in  their  effects,  and  has 
followed  after  the  pleasures  of  knowledge  in  this  life ;  who  has 
adorned  the  soul  in  her  own  proper  jewels,  which  are 
temperance,  and  justice,  and  courage,  and  nobility,  and 
truth — in  these  arrayed  she  is  ready  to  go  on  her  journey  to  the 
world  below,  when  her  time  comes.  You,  Simmias  and  Cebes, 
and  all  other  men,  will  depart  at  some  time  or  other.  Me  al- 
ready, as  the  tragic  poet  would  say,  the  voice  of  fate  calls. 
Soon  I  must  drink  the  poison  ;  and  I  think  that  I  had  better 
repair  to  the  bath  first,  in  order  that  the  women  may  not  have 
the  trouble  of  washing  my  body  after  I  am  dead. 

When  he  had  done  speaking,  Crito  said  :  And  have  you  any 
commands  for  us,  Socrates — anything  to  say  about  your  chil- 
dren, or  any  other  matter  in  which  we  can  serve  you  ? 

Nothing  particular,  he  said :  only,  as  I  have  always  told  you, 
I  would  have  you  to  look  to  yourselves  ;  that  is  a  service  which 
you  may  always  be  doing  to  me  and  mine  as  well  as  to  your- 
selves. And  you  need  not  make  professions  ;  for  if  you  take 
no  thought  for  yourselves,  and  walk  not  according  to  the  pre- 
cepts which  I  have  given  you,  not  now  for  the  first  time,  the 
warmth  of  your  professions  will  be  of  no  avail. 

We  will  do  our  best,  said  Crito.  But  in  what  way  would 
you  have  us  bury  you  ? 

In  any  way  that  you  like  ;  only  you  must  get  hold  of  me, 
and  take  care  that  I  do  not  walk  away  from  you.  Then  he 
turned  to  us,  and  added  with  a  smile :  I  cannot  make  Crito 
believe  that  I  am  the  same  Socrates  who  have  been  talking 
and  conducting  the  argument;  he  fancies  that  I  am  the 
other  Socrates  whom  he  will  soon  see,  a  dead  body — and  he 
asks,  How  shall  he  bury  me  ?  And  though  I  have  spoken 
many  words  in  the  endeavor  to  show  that  when  I  have  drunk 
the  poison  I  shall  leave  you  and  go  to  the  joys  of  the  blessed, 


452  PLATO   THE   TEACHER 

— these  words  of  mine,  with  which  I  comforted  you  and  my- 
self, have  had,  as  I  perceive,  no  effect  upon  Crito.  And 
therefore  I  want  you  to  be  surety  for  me  now,  as  he  was 
surety  for  me  at  the  trial :  but  let  the  promise  be  of  another 
sort ;  for  he  was  my  surety  to  the  judges  that  I  would  remain, 
but  you  must  be  my  surety  to  him  that  I  shall  not  remain, 
but  go  away  and  depart ;  and  then  he  will  suffer  less  at  my 
death,  and  not  be  grieved  when  he  sees  my  body  being 
burned  or  buried.  I  would  not  have  him  sorrow  at  my  hard 
lot,  or  say  at  the  burial,  Thus  we  lay  out  Socrates,  or,  Thus 
we  follow  him  to  the  grave  or  bury  him  ;  for  false  words  are 
not  only  evil  in  themselves,  but  they  infect  the  soul  with 
evil.     Be  of  good  cheer  then,  my  dear  Crito,  and  say  that 

6     you  are  burying  my  body  only,  and  do  with  that  as  is 
usual,  and  as  you  think  best. 

When  he  had  spoken  these  words,  he  arose  and  went  into 
the  bath-chamber  with  Crito,  who  bid  us  wait ;  and  we 
waited,  talking  and  thinking  of  the  subject  of  discourse,  and 
also  of  the  greatness  of  our  sorrow  ;  he  was  like  the  father  of 
whom  we  were  being  bereaved,  and  we  were  about  to  pass 
the  rest  of  our  lives  as  orphans.  When  he  had  taken  the 
bath  his  children  were  brought  to  him — (he  had  two  young 
sons  and  an  elder  one)  ;  and  the  women  of  his  family  also 
came,  and  he  talked  to  them  and  gave  them  a  few  directions 
in  the  presence  of  Crito ;  and  he  then  dismissed  them  and 
returned  to  us. 

Now  the  hour  of  sunset  was  near,  for  a  good  deal  of  time 
had  passed  while  he  was  within.  When  he  came  out,  he  sat 
down  with  us  again  after  his  bath,  but  not  much  was  said. 
Soon  the  jailer,  who  was  the  servant  of  the  eleven,  entered 
and  stood  by  him,  saying :  To  you,  Socrates,  whom  I  know 
to  be  the  noblest  and  gentlest  and  best  of  all  who  ever  came 
to  this  place,  I  will  not  impute  the  angry  feelings  of  other 
men,  who  rage  and  swear  at  me  when,  in  obedience  to  the 
authorities,  I  bid  them  drink  the  poison — indeed  I  am  sure 
that  you  will  not  be  angry  with  me ;  for  others,  as  you  are 
aware,  and  not  I,  are  the  guilty  cause.  And  so  fare  you  well, 
and  try  to  bear  lightly  what  must  needs  be ;  you  know  my 
errand.  Then  bursting  into  tears  he  turned  away  and  went 
out. 

Socrates  looked  at  him  and  said  :   I  return  your  good  wishes, 


PH/EDO  453 

and  will  do  as  you  bid.  Then  turning  to  us,  he  said,  How 
charming  the  man  is :  since  I  have  been  in  prison  he  has  al- 
ways been  coming  to  see  me,  and  at  times  he  would  talk  to 
me,  and  was  as  good  as  could  be  to  me,  and  now  see  how  gen- 
erously he  sorrows  for  me.  But  we  must  do  as  he  says,  Crito ; 
let  the  cup  be  brought,  if  the  poison  is  prepared  :  if  not,  let 
the  attendant  prepare  some. 

Yet,  said  Crito,  the  sun  is  still  upon  the  hill-tops,  and  many 
a  one  has  taken  the  draught  late,  and  after  the  announcement 
has  been  made  to  him,  he  has  eaten  and  drunk,  and  indulged 
in  sensual  delights ;  do  not  hasten  then,  there  is  still  time. 

Socrates  said  :  Yes,  Crito,  and  they  of  whom  you  speak  are 
right  in  doing  thus,  for  they  think  that  they  will  gain  by  the 
delay ;  but  I  am  right  in  not  doing  thus,  for  I  do  not 
think  that  I  should  gain  anything  by  drinking  the  poison  ' 
a  little  later ;  I  should  be  sparing  and  saving  a  life  which  is 
already  gone  :  I  could  only  laugh  at  myself  for  this.  Please 
then  to  do  as  I  say,  and  not  to  refuse  me. 

Crito,  when  he  heard  this,  made  a  sign  to  the  servant ;  and 
the  servant  went  in,  and  remained  for  some  time,  and  then 
returned  with  the  jailer  carrying  the  cup  of  poison.  Socrates 
said  :  You,  my  good  friend,  who  are  experienced  in  these  mat- 
ters, shall  give  me  directions  how  I  am  to  proceed.  The  man 
answered :  You  have  only  to  walk  about  until  your  legs  are 
heavy,  and  then  to  lie  down,  and  the  poison  will  act.  At  the 
same  time  he  handed  the  cup  to  Socrates,  who  in  the  easiest  and 
gentlest  manner,  without  the  least  fear  or  change  of  color  or 
feature,  looking  at  the  man  with  all  his  eyes,  Echecrates,  as  his 
manner  was,  took  the  cup  and  said  :  What  do  you  say  about 
making  a  libation  out  of  this  cup  to  any  god  ?  May  I,  or  not  ? 
The  man  answered  :  We  only  prepare,  Socrates,  just  so  much 
as  we  deem  enough.  I  understand,  he  said  :  yet  I  may  and 
must  pray  to  the  gods  to  prosper  my  journey  from  this  to  that 
other  world — may  this  then,  which  is  my  prayer,  be  granted 
to  me.  Then  holding  the  cup  to  his  lips,  quite  readily  and 
cheerfully  he  drank  off  the  poison.  And  hitherto  most  of  us 
had  been  able  to  control  our  sorrow  ;  but  now  when  we  saw 
him  drinking,  and  saw  too  that  he  had  finished  the  draught,  we 
could  no  longer  forbear,  and  in  spite  of  myself  my  own  tears 
were  flowing  fast ;  so  that  I  Covered  my  face  and  wept  over 
myself,  for  certainly  I  was  not  weeping  over  him,  but  at  the 


454  PLATO   THE  TEACHER 

thought  of  my  own  calamity  in  having  lost  such  a  companion. 
Nor  was  I  the  first,  for  Crito,  when  he  found  himself  unable  to 
restrain  his  tears,  had  got  up  and  moved  away,  and  I  followed  ; 
and  at  that  moment,  Apollodorus,  who  had  been  weeping  all 
the  time,  broke  out  into  a  loud  cry  which  made  cowards  of  us 
all.  Socrates  alone  retained  his  calmness  :  What  is  this  strange 
outcry  ?  he  said.  I  sent  away  the  women  mainly  in  order  that 
they  might  not  offend  in  this  way,  for  I  have  heard  that  a  man 
should  die  in  peace.  Be  quiet  then,  and  have  patience.  When 
we  heard  that,  we  were  ashamed,  and  refrained  our  tears  ;  and 
he  walked  about  until,  as  he  said,  his  legs  began  to  fail,  and 
then  he  lay  on  his  back,  according  to  the  directions,  and  the 
man  who  gave  him  the  poison  now  and  then  looked  at  his  feet 
and  legs  ;  and  after  a  while  he  pressed  his  foot  hard  and  asked 
him  if  he  could  feel ;  and  he  said,  No ;  and  then  his  leg,  and  so 
upwards  and  upwards,  and  showed  us  that  he  was  cold  and  stiff. 

8  And  he  felt  them  himself,  and  said:  When  the  poison 
reaches  the  heart,  that  will  be  the  end.  He  was  beginning 
to  grow  cold  about  the  groin,  when  he  uncovered  his  face,  for 
he  had  covered  himself  up,  and  said  (they  were  his  last  words) 
— he  said  :  Crito,  I  owe  a  cock  to  Asclepius ;  will  you  re- 
member to  pay  the  debt? 41  The  debt  shall  be  paid,  said  Crito ; 
is  there  anything  ehe  ?  There  was  no  answer  to  this  question  ; 
but  in  a  minute  or  two  a  movement  was  heard,  and  the  attend- 
ants uncovered  him  ;  his  eyes  were  set,  and  Crito  closed  his 
eyes  and  mouth. 

Such  was  the  end,  Echecrates,  of  our  friend,  whom  I  may 
truly  call  the  wisest,  and  justest,  and  best  of  all  the  men  whom 
I  have  ever  known. 

41  See  Protagoras,  note  8.  What  Socrates  meant  by  this  his  last  speech 
is  doubtful.  Some  hold  that  he  believed  literally  in  JEsculapius  as  a  god, 
that  he  had  actually  made  a  vow  to  him,  and  that  he  did  not  wish  to  die  with 
any  religious  duty  unfulfilled.  Others  hold  that  he  used  the  language  of  the 
popular  religion  figuratively,  that  he  meant  to  say  that  he  was  now  cured  of 
the  worst  possible  malady,  the  earthly  life,  and  that  he  owed  thanks  to  God 
for  this  cure.  In  general,  it  remains  doubtful  how  far  Plato  believed  liter- 
ally in  the  religion  of  his  time  and  how  far  he  used  the  language  of  that  re- 
ligion figuratively  to  express  higher  views. 


J 


-    '     -w^>   k^T    TTCT7 

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